


At Your Command

by ArabellaFaith



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Mild Gore, Prince Yuri Plisetsky, Slavery, Top Otabek Altin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-20 20:44:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 44,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13725636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArabellaFaith/pseuds/ArabellaFaith
Summary: Spoiled and selfish Prince Yuri takes newly submitted Otabek as his pleasure slave, determined to finally have sex. But despite the fact that Otabek became a slave of his own free will, there is nothing subservient about him. Before Yuri has a chance to learn about his past, they are cast on an unwilling adventure where they must work together to survive. Along the way, they come to realize that neither of them are quite what they seem.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! Welcome to my little YOI slave fic! A few quick notes before you begin:
> 
> I haven't tagged this story as non-con or graphic violence, but there is EXTREMELY dubious consent, and situations in which a character is legally unable to revoke consent (really, I feel anything about slavery deals with this). If those are things that squick you out, this fic may not be for you.
> 
> Secondly, I hate referring to characters repeatedly by title instead of with a pronoun or name, but I do that constantly in the first part of this story. The reason is that it is told from Yuri's POV, and while WE know who the slave is, Yuri doesn't bother to learn his name. So I apologize in advance for the annoyingly continuous use of "the slave" and promise that it doesn't last the whole story!

Yuri wandered down the hall, trying to decide how best to fill his afternoon.  He could go out to the gardens, but there was a chance that he might run into his brother there.  The library sounded pleasant, but he wasn’t in the mood to sit and read.  He was still smarting after Victor had chastised him earlier and he wanted someone he could take it out on.  After the trouble he’d gotten into for making the cook cry, he didn’t think unleashing his barbed tongue on the servants was a good idea.

 

When he turned down the next hall, the solution came to him.  With a grin, he made his way down to the slave quarters.

 

Victor had been slowly but steadily eliminating slavery in the kingdom, but he had allowed ‘voluntary’ slavery to remain.  Slaves who had no interest in emancipation could maintain their positions, and others were free to enter themselves into slavery, but they could not be coerced in any way and had to be above the age of consent.  It didn’t happen often, but they slowly trickled into the capital, and from there, the palace - people who would rather surrender their will and live in luxury than scrape by in whatever way they chose with freedom.

 

Just two months before, the palace had acquired a new slave, and Yuri had claimed the man for his own.  He’d never had a pleasure slave before, but he was old enough now and something about the look of the man had appealed to him.  The slave had been handsome enough for a prince, yes, but it was his  _ size _ that had appealed to Yuri.  Where Yuri was slender, the slave was broad.  Where Yuri was lacking in height, the slave more than made up for it.  The idea of having total and utter control over someone who so clearly could have bested him physically was titillating.  Not to mention that upon first sight, the slave had met Yuri’s eyes boldly rather than lower them demurely as all the others had.

 

If Yuri was to experience sex, and it was more than past time that he did, then this was how he wanted to do it.

 

Yuri had wanted to take the slave back to his rooms that very afternoon, but of course he still needed training.  All palace slaves received extensive training, and pleasure slaves took even longer.  Yuri had been impatient the first week, but after that he’d completely forgotten about the slave.  The man had likely been lazing his days away in the harem, since pleasure slaves had no other duties than seeing to their masters when called for.  Well, his little vacation was about to end.  Yuri wondered what he should have the slave do first.  Obviously, his mind turned to sex, but despite how eager he was to rectify his inexperience, he wasn’t certain that he wanted to simply take the slave back to his rooms and mount him.

 

To be honest, he felt a small amount of trepidation about the idea.

 

Which was ridiculous, of course, because it didn’t matter if he wasn’t good at it, or if he didn’t last.  The slave hadn’t the right to complain, and wouldn’t dare tell anyone.  Still, it seemed like an occasion that should have somewhat more ceremony than a quick fuck in the middle of the afternoon.  Maybe he would simply have the slave suck his cock instead.  That appealed to him immensely.  And if he spilled too quickly, he could blame the slave.  It solved everything.  He wondered idly how much of Yuri’s barbed tongue the stoic slave would be able to bear before he cried the way the cook had.  

 

***

 

The slave-master rose when Yuri entered the slave quarters, somewhat surprised to see the prince.

 

“Your Highness, what a pleasure.  How can we help you?”

 

“The slave that I claimed some time ago - I assume he’s completed his training.  I’m taking him for the day.”

 

“Of course, Highness.  He has, indeed, completed his training some time ago.  You are welcome to him at your leisure.”  Yuri went to move past the slave-master to the harem, but paused when the man spoke again.  “If I may, though?”

 

“What?” Yuri snapped.  If the slave-master thought he was going to give Yuri a lecture on the responsibility of owning another being, he had another thing coming.  Yuri had already endured that speech from Victor and didn’t intend to sit through it again.

 

“He is still… difficult, despite our best efforts.”

 

“He is disobedient?”  If so, Yuri could break him of that.

 

“No, Highness.  He obeys any command given to him to the letter, now.  But-”

 

“But what?”

 

“But he lacks the willing spirit and servitude that a slave should have.  He does only what is required of him and no more.  He rarely speaks more than a single word at a time, even when prompted.  He is… excessively severe and stoically tempered.  There are other slaves, more appropriately subservient, that would be more than eager to serve you.”

 

Yuri considered for a moment.  It would, perhaps, be easier to take a different slave, one with a proper disposition.  But then, Yuri had never been one to back down from a challenge.  He could handle one willful slave. Perhaps it would even make the experience more enjoyable

 He smiled.

 

“Take me to him.”

 

With an almost reluctant nod, the slave-master ushered Yuri to the harem.  The room was largely empty despite being vast enough to house several dozen slaves.  Since the king was wholly monogamous to his consort, however, there was little use for pleasure slaves except for visiting dignitaries.  And, of course, Yuri’s lone slave.  He was easy to spot.  The other slaves were stretched out on the luxurious cushions around the room, some dozing, some singing prettily.  Yuri’s slave was pacing the floor, practically prowling along the edges of the room like a caged tiger.  He was naked, as all the pleasure slaves were, but his tanned skin stood out among the others like a beacon.  Yuri caught a brief glimpse of his piercing, his mark as a pleasure slave, before he turned, his body angled away from them.

 

The slave-master cleared his throat and suddenly all of the slaves came to attention.  Yuri’s slave stopped pacing and cocked his head, the only sign he was listening.

 

“Prince Yuri has come to collect his slave.”  There were collective sighs of disappointment.  After a brief, willful pause, the man finally turned and crossed the room.  His gaze burned into Yuri’s, dark and intent, until he reached them.  Then, his eyes flicked to the slave-master’s, and he dropped gracefully to his knees.  His arms came up, wrists pointed towards the ceiling.

 

“At your command,” he said flatly, no trace of submission in his voice despite the words being the traditional greeting of a slave to his master.  Yuri took note of the scars littering his hands and arms, some of them quite jarring, but not detracting from the man’s appeal in the slightest.  He wondered who the slave had been, before.

 

“Rise,” Yuri ordered, a light touch to the supplicated wrists releasing the slave from his position.  He rose just as gracefully.  Yuri was reminded yet again of just how vast the difference in their sizes was, standing in the slave’s shadow.  It sent twin bolts of thrill and trepidation through him.

 

“How would you like him to be affixed to you, highness?” the slave-master asked as they left the harem.  Yuri grimaced.

 

“Surely if he’s been trained as you say, the chain isn’t necessary?”  Yuri saw the slave’s eyes narrow at the word ‘chain.’

 

“My sincerest apologies, Highness, but while slaves aren’t tied to their masters to keep them from running away in this day and age, it is still palace tradition.  It would not do to have a slave, especially a  _ pleasure slave _ , going about the palace unattended by their master.”

 

Yuri waved his hand negligently.  “Fine.  Whatever will be the least inconvenience for me.  I do not want to be bogged down by heavy shackles.”

 

“Of course not, Highness.  The metal used in slave chains is renowned for its strength and lightness.  The cuff on your wrist will weigh no more than a bangle.”  He drew what looked like a delicate golden bracelet from the chest by his desk.  “Now, where would you prefer him to be tied?  A collar, perhaps?  A wrist cuff?  We do have rings designed to go on male slaves’ co-”

 

“A wrist cuff will suffice,” Yuri interjected, not certain he was ready to handle the mental image of leading his enormous slave around by the cock.  Unless he was much mistaken, the slave was relieved at his choice as well.  A thick gold band was withdrawn from the chest, a sizeable length of chain attached to it.   In deft movements, the slave-master locked the cuff around the slave’s wrist, then locked the chain and smaller bracelet to Yuri’s wrist.  The key went into the desk, in an otherwise empty drawer.

 

“Fragile though it may appear, I can assure you that the chain will not break except in forge fire, Highness, so you may use it as you will.”

 

Yuri had no idea what the slave-master thought he was going to do with the slim gold chain, and he didn’t care to ask.  “Good.  Are there any other banal requirements, or are we free to go?”

 

“Of course your Highness is free to do as he pleases,” the slave-master assured him saccharinely.  Yuri rolled his eyes and turned to go.  The slave didn’t move to follow him.  Yuri gathered the excess until the chain was pulled taut and gave a sharp tug.  The slave didn’t even twitch.

 

“Have you turned to stone in the time we were standing here?” Yuri demanded.  The slave opened his mouth, scowled, then closed it.  “Speak.”

 

“I-” he paused, then started again, his voice low.  “If we are to leave these rooms, am I not to be given clothes?”

 

The slave-master flushed red and sputtered.  “My deepest and most sincere apologies, Highness!  I assure you that he was informed his nakedness would be your choice, and the insult of him to  _ request _ clothes-”

 

“Do be quiet,” Yuri snapped.  The slave-master fell silent beside them.  Yuri let his eyes wander slowly, obviously, over the slave’s body, pausing significantly on the red gem in his piercing, before moving back up.  “I like you just as you are, for now.  Maybe you can  _ earn _ yourself some sort of clothing later on.”

 

It seemed as though the slave’s cheeks mottled, but it was hard to tell beneath his sun darkened complexion.  “Modesty, in a pleasure slave?” Yuri asked archly.  “How novel.”

 

“You are most generous, Highness.  Please, do not hesitate to bring him back should he become difficult or require punishment- though of course your Highness is welcome to punish his slave however he sees fit-”

 

Yuri left before the slave-master had even finished speaking, and this time the slave followed.


	2. Chapter 2

The hallway was empty except for the guards at the end of it, as were the others leading to Yuri’s rooms.  Yuri was vaguely grateful for that.  He didn’t necessarily care that his slave seemed uneasy with his nudity, but he wasn’t outright cruel.  He had no interest in making the man suffer needlessly.  Of course, with time, Yuri expected him to come to see himself as nothing but the Prince’s plaything, to be stripped or clothed only at the Prince’s whim.  Still, there was no need to parade him among others until he had become sufficiently settled in his place.

 

The length of chain between them was not as annoying as Yuri expected it to be.  It was as light as advertised, and did not tangle, even when Yuri let it drag on the floor between them.  It would provide enough distance that Yuri could stand across a small room from the slave, but no further.  Not that he thought he would need any more than that.  After all, what he wanted from the slave required rather closer quarters.

 

Once he informed the guard at his door that he was not to be disturbed and put the lock in place, he turned to the slave, suddenly unsure.  It should be relatively simple.  Unlace his breeches and tell the slave to suck his cock.  Or maybe it would be better on the bed, where he could lay back and not worry about his knees giving out beneath him.  Perhaps he could request a bath drawn-  But Yuri found that he wasn’t ready to be naked in front of the slave yet.  Contrary, considering that he wanted the slave’s mouth on his cock.

 

Unwilling to let his indecision show, Yuri crossed to a chair before the fire and dropped into it.  The slave stood at his elbow.  “Surely you were informed that when his master is sitting, a slave’s place is kneeling at his feet?”  There was a significant pause, then the slave dropped to his knees and sat back on his heels.  It put his head only slightly lower than Yuri’s.

 

“The slave-master did not exaggerate when he said you do not have a servitile disposition,” Yuri murmured, reaching out to brush a lock of dark hair across the slave’s forehead.  He could see that the slave only just kept himself from jerking away from the touch.  “One would think someone so willful wouldn’t choose to become a slave, then.”  The slave’s mouth tightened into a frown, but he didn’t speak.  “Such a severe expression,” Yuri tutted.  “It’s not as though you could be forced.  This was  _ your _ decision.  And really, you should be grateful.  The life of a pleasure slave is one of total ease.  You are pampered and left to wile away your days in luxury until you are past your sexual prime, then taught a gentle trade to occupy you in your age.  You could be out mucking manure in the stables instead of basking before a warm fire on plush carpets.”

 

“You leave out the part where I must bend over for any who command,” the slave growled.

 

Yuri was surprised.  The slave hadn’t uttered a single sound since his request for clothes, and by the set of his jaw, it hadn’t looked as though he would say anything further for the rest of the night.  Not to mention the cheek of such a comment.  It was enough that Yuri could have him whipped, should he see fit.  Yuri was far from angered, however.  A corner of his mouth twitched up.

 

“Any who command?  No, just me.”  The look the slave cast him was so filled with disbelief that Yuri laughed.  “Yes, in a general sense, pleasure slaves exist to be used at the whim of their superiors, but as the personal pleasure slave of the Prince, you are to service me alone.”  Still the slave stared at him without acceptance.  “Besides, with this on, no one could have their way with you out of my sight.  Doesn’t that endear you to this chain a bit more than before.”

 

“I am not always on the chain and in your sight.”

 

Yuri sighed, bored now with the topic.  “Fine.  I order you not to allow anyone to fuck you outside my presence.  You’re brawny enough to prevent it.  Satisfied?”

 

“Does that include my trainers?”

 

“Your trainers fuck you?” Yuri had never heard of such a thing.  The trainers were not to partake of the slave’s charms.

 

“Not with their own cocks,” the slave snarled.

 

“What?”

 

“Forget it.”

 

Yuri bristled.  First the slave was talking nonsense, and now he was giving Yuri orders?  That wouldn’t do at all.  “Of course, I can always order you to spread your legs and let someone fuck you in front of me,” he said sweetly.  The slave’s jaw tightened and he said nothing.  Yuri didn’t object.  Silence was better than willfulness.  “If you can learn to accept your place,” Yuri added after a long moment to drive the point home, “you will find that I have no interest in sharing my toys.”  The words seemed to both relieve and frustrate the slave further.  It took Yuri a moment to realize the source of his displeasure.  “Do you dislike being referred to as a toy?”

 

The slave lifted his chin a fraction, which Yuri took as answer.  “Then how would you rather I liken you?  To a dog?  To be owned and petted and played with?  Considering your purpose I find that title distasteful.  No, you are a toy, to be enjoyed and put back on a shelf until I want you again.”  The slave still scowled.  “You look as though the position I’ve given you is a disgraceful one.  Do you know how many have begged me for what I’ve given you?”  It was true - there had been men and women aplenty who had pleaded for the chance to become the prince’s pleasure slave, or even be with him just for the night.

 

“Then why not take one of them?” the slave snapped.  Yuri shrugged, running his finger along the furl of the slave’s lower lip to chase the thrill that he might be bitten.

 

“None before you appealed to me.”

 

The slave looked at him incredulously, and Yuri almost laughed.  “What?  So I am not drawn to the fragile, blooming little females or ethereal men who present themselves.  What I admire is strength.”  He glanced sidelong at the slave as he reclined back in the chair.  “Do you find that surprising, considering my own stature?  Make no mistake, I am stronger than I look.  Not strong enough to best someone like you in a physical match, no, but strong.  And strong enough to  _ command _ strength.  That is what really matters, is it not?”

 

Yuri felt the silence between them grow brittle and decided it was past time they move on to other matters.  Like the loss of his innocence, even as partially as he had planned.  Or maybe he’d just get it out of the way, then fuck the slave after all.  He would even be gentle, just to prove that he was a decent master.  The slave would probably enjoy it.

 

But first things first.  He glanced at the bed, and discarded the idea.  It felt too intimate.  He considered the idea of the bath again, but shook his head.  Perhaps another time.  Sitting, then.  Just as he was.  Or maybe the other side of the room?  But he could see no reason to move except to release the tension coursing through him, so he decided against it.  He would just get this over with.  The next time he wouldn’t be feeling this slick, spinning combination of anticipation and fear.   He forced his fingers not to shake as he reached for the laces of his breeches.

 

He couldn’t seem to undo the simple knot that he’d undone every single day since he’d grown old enough to dress himself.

 

But that was the slave’s job, anyways, right?

 

“Untie my laces.”

 

The slave’s throat clicked dryly as he swallowed, moving before Yuri and lifting his hands.  With surprisingly deft fingers, he loosed the laces of Yuri’s breeches, letting the placket part.  Only his smallclothes covered his cock from the slave’s view.  “And the rest,” Yuri said, his voice higher than he would have liked it to be.  “I want you to-” he stopped, forcing his tone down to a more normal range.  “You’re going to suck my cock.”

 

There was a pause, then the slave shifted the thin linen out of the way, revealing Yuri’s penis, nestled limply in the cradle of his thighs.  The slave looked up, surprised.

 

“You’re not hard.”

 

“Isn’t that your job?” Yuri snapped, coloring sharply.  It wasn’t as though he wasn’t eager.  He was just too nervous to be aroused.  Once things got started-

 

“To be hard?  That’s not going to happen.”

 

“To get me hard, idiot!”

 

The slave made a dismissive noise and sat back on his heels again.  “Usually a man about to have his cock sucked is already erect.”

 

“What are you implying?”

 

“That his Highness might not actually  _ want _ his cock sucked.”

 

“Of course I want it,” Yuri spat.  He gripped the arms of the chair and huffed out a breath.  “Just get on with it.”

 

There was a long pause, then slowly, as if giving him time to change his mind, the slave reached for Yuri’s cock.  Yuri barely resisted jumping at the first contact of strong, warm fingers against him, and he knew the slave noticed his stifled flinch.  Dark eyes flicked up to meet his.  There was another pause, and when Yuri’s resolve did not waver, the slave pulled the skin back, baring the head.  He leaned close, obviously reluctant, but for his own sake or Yuri’s, the prince couldn’t tell.  A breath later, his tongue  flicked out.

 

“Buggering  _ fuck _ !”  Yuri practically jackknifed out of the chair.  When he got himself seated again and had a firmer grip on his control, the slave was sitting back calmly, watching him.  “What?” Yuri demanded.

 

“Is this, perhaps, your first time?”

 

“Of course not!” Yuri said quickly.  “I’ve done this a hundred times!  I mean- had this done.  To me.  You’re not my first!”  He was suddenly aware of just how much he sounded like a petulant child.  Yuri closed his mouth.  The slave’s lips twisted into what was almost a smirk.    He said nothing.  Yuri would have rathered he laughed outright.  “Just get on with it,” he snarled again, gripping the slave’s hair insistently.  The slave stayed in place long enough to prove that Yuri could not force him to move, then lowered his head.

 

This time, Yuri was more prepared for the feeling of a tongue on his cock.  It was… electric.  Jarring, hot, intense, altogether too much sensation - and Yuri wanted  _ more _ .  The slave’s lips closed around him and he applied suction, lightly at first, but it was enough to make Yuri jump.  The prince was entirely certain that his slave was laughing at him.  In response, he pulled on the man’s hair roughly.  His cock was fully hard now, straining for more attention.  The slave took it all the way in his mouth with relative ease and began to move.

 

Yuri groaned, feeling dangerously out of control.  He was already on edge, shaking and breathless.  It would be a miracle if he lasted even five minutes.  And then the tongue working up the length of him stopped and flicked at the ridge just beneath the crown and-

 

“Fuck fuck  _ fuck!” _  Yuri came abruptly and scrambled to push the slave away, overwhelmed by sensation.  The slave swallowed visibly.  This time, there was no doubt that the twist to his lips was a smirk.  “Shut up,” Yuri huffed.  The smirk deepened.  “So that was the first time I’ve had my cock sucked.  So what.”  The slave continued to say nothing.  Judgmentally.  Yuri pushed him away with the tip of his boot and retied his breeches.   “You have no reason to look so smug,  _ slave _ .  You were given the privilege of servicing me and you did it.  That’s all.”

 

“Then are you done with me for the night,  _ master _ ?” the slave asked, his tone clearly mocking.

 

“Maybe not.”  Yuri was fairly certain that he wanted nothing else from the slave after such an admittedly spectacular performance, but he did not like the slave’s attitude.  “Maybe all I need is a few moments to recover and we can move this to the bed so I can mount you.  Why not get all my firsts out of the way at once?”

 

The slave tensed immediately, any trace of humor vanishing from his face.  He stared at Yuri, dark eyes narrowed.  In an instant, Yuri realized just how easy it would be for the slave to harm him.  To kill him.  All he would have to do would be to strangle Yuri with the chain connecting them, cut off Yuri’s hand, and he would be free to slip out of the palace.  It sent a single shiver of fear through him before he stifled it.  The man wouldn’t dare.

 

“ _ All _ of your firsts?” he asked in a low, clipped voice.  “Then will you be bending over in return when you’re finished?”

 

Of their own accord, Yuri’s eyes flicked down to the slave’s cock.  Even flaccid, it was sizeable enough to give a man pause.  Suddenly the piercing there looked far more intimidating.

 

“A prince bends over for no man,” Yuri said when he regained his composure.  As if he’d let a  _ slave _ fuck him.  

 

The slave’s face darkened, then shuttered completely.  It became eerily blank, his eyes fixed ahead of him and his jaw tight.  He lifted his hands, inner wrists exposed.  “At your command.”  His voice was as blank as his face.  Yuri drew back, startled and uncomfortable.  Something that felt suspiciously like guilt rose up inside of him.  He cleared his throat to try and stifle it.

 

“Yes, well - we’ll have to see.  About the fucking.  I’m not.... in the mood.”  He finished lamely and stood up, barely taking the time to notice the slave’s curt nod.  Suddenly Yuri wanted to put space between them.  He considered going back down the the slave quarters and getting the damn chain off, but that felt too much like fleeing.  He could stand to face one single slave.

 

He perched himself on a chair by the window and gazed out at the courtyard below to distract himself.  “Your performance was - adequate, by the way.  In case you were wondering.”  His offering was met with silence.  It stretched to discomfort before he added, “I’ll speak to the slave-master about having pants made for you.  Provided you don’t displease me before we return.”  Still, the slave said nothing.

 

The sun was slowly sinking into the horizon, despite the fact that Yuri felt hardly any time had gone by.  With a sigh, Yuri forced himself to relax.  He was letting himself get worked up when there was no reason to.  He’d known the slave was difficult when he’d first taken him.  That had been part of the thrill.  The challenge.  That’s all this was.  A challenge for Yuri to best. He let a long stretch of time go past simply to prove that he could handle the silence.

 

“You do not seem the type to seek this life willingly.”  The slave did not explain, which only bothered Yuri fruther.  Did the man not realize that Yuri was being  _ generous _ in prompting him to speak freely?  Yuri had never in his life cared about the affairs of another.  It would be just as easy for him to dismiss the slave’s entire existence outside of the palace walls and not care what had motivated him to come within them.  “Have you suddenly gone mute?  Your tongue was loose enough before.”  There was a soft snort from across the room and Yuri blushed as he realized how his words could have been interpreted.  “Speak, damnit!”

 

“Is that a command?”

 

“It is.”

 

“Then what would your Highness like me to say?”

 

“Tell me what you were before you came here.  You were old enough to have taken an occupation.”

 

“I apprenticed as a blacksmith.”

 

Yuri scoffed, thinking he’d found the root of things.  “And you decided that life was too difficult for you?”  Another pause ensued, so long that Yuri thought the slave wasn’t going to answer at all.

 

“...so it would seem.”

 

Yuri wanted to throw something at the stubborn man’s head.  Just as quickly as he’d thought he had the whole story, he was now certain that there was much more to it.  More that the slave didn’t see fit to share with his master.  Yuri did not intend to be a cruel master.  A demanding one, perhaps.  Severe, certainly.  But he was not malicious.  When he’d first claimed the slave as his own, it had been on a whim, As a solution to a problem that had been nagging him.  But now that he was here, in Yuri’s quarters, it was easy to remember that this was a human man whose life was entirely in Yuri’s hands.  He wanted to indulge his slave, to pet him and pamper him, use him gently until he was satisfied and then send him back to the harem to rest in luxury.

 

But all those intentions went up like so much smoke in the face of the idiot’s ridiculous obstinacy.  Now, he did not see the slave as a pet to be coddled, but a wild animal that need a display of dominance.  Yuri would show him that he could be harsh, and then coax the man out with tenderness.  If it worked on horses, it would work on the slave.

 

“It  _ would seem _ ,” he said, using the slave’s own words back, “ that I am recovered.  Get on the bed.”  He heard a swift intake of breath and fought back another wave of guilt.  He had no intention of actually hurting the slave.  He would be thorough with the necessary preparations, but he would act with a firm hand and show beyond a doubt who was in charge.  Then, once the slave was in his place, Yuri would be the caring master he had intended all along.

 

Yuri wondered, idly, as the slave rose stiffly and went to the bed, how he might provide pleasure in this.  He thought it safe to assume, if the way Victor and his consort were continually groping each other was any indication, that done properly it was pleasant for both parties.  It was easy to see how  _ he _ would enjoy this, but he couldn’t really imagine that being on the receiving end was any more than barely endurable.  He supposed he could attempt to stroke the slave’s cock as he rode him, but considering the size of this slave, he didn’t know that his arms were long enough.  Perhaps it would be enough to take his own release and then let the slave bring himself pleasure when they were done.

 

That idea appealed to him immensely.  His cock, which he had been bluffing about being ready again, stiffened.  The thought of seeing the slave stroking his cock with those strong, scarred hands, the scarlet gem of the piercing winking in the candle light as it disappeared and reappeared beneath his fist, that massive body straining towards release…  He wanted to see how that severe face looked when orgasm hit, wanted to hear moans of pleasure in that deep baritone.

 

_ This  _ was what he had been waiting for.  This was the excitement he had never before been able to muster when thinking of sex.

 

His plan to be brusque and cold evaporated in the face of those eoritc images.  He could overlook a few minor slights, forgive those small displays of willfulness, if it meant that he might get to watch the slave come undone beneath him.  After all, wasn’t that the most complete submission?  And old wisdom said that more flies were caught with honey…

 

The slave had perched on the edge of the bed, and Yuri quickly stripped out of his clothes as he walked over.  His earlier discomfort at the thought of being naked was utterly forgotten in his desire.  He pressed his fingers into the solid muscle of the slave’s pectoral, urging him backward.  The slave went back on the bed, and Yuri followed him.  Free to touch to his content and finally uninhibited enough to do so, Yuri brushed along the coarse, black hairs dotting the slave’s chest, over the thin line leading down his belly, stopping just short of the thicker patch above his cock.  Yuri let his hand ghost over the soft flesh there for a fraction of a second, then moved further up again.  He traced the veins in the slave’s forearms in fascination, studied the tendons at the back of his knees in detail.

 

After such gentle, thorough, almost reverent study, the slave seemed to begin to relax.  He did not hold himself quite so stiffly, and once, when Yuri’s hair had brushed along his cock, Yuri had seen the slumbering giant twitch with interest.  His attentions were paying off.  Now he could fuck the slave, then watch him come.  They could  _ both  _ be satisfied.

 

“Turn over.  Spread your legs,” he whispered, expecting the slave to comply easily.  As soon as the words left his lips, however, the slave went rigid.  All Yuri’s work was undone in a single instant.  Every muscle had gone taut, tension practically radiating from the man.  As Yuri sat back and tried to figure out where he’d gone wrong, the slave stiffly did as he’d been told.  He turned to his stomach, arms above his head, fists clutching the sheet tightly.  At first his legs only moved a few scant inches apart, but then as if by some herculean effort, they slid away from each other enough to allow Yuri to sit between them.

 

A glint of red and gold caught Yuri by such surprise that he forgot the slave’s tension.  He touched the red gem encircled in gold that had been warmed by the slave’s body heat.  It was so similar to the piercing, but this was no piercing.  The slave jumped when he felt the pressure of Yuri’s gentle touch, so Yuri lifted his hand.

 

“What’s this?”

 

The slave took a sharp breath and spoke through clenched teeth.  “I have been  _ required _ to wear it every moment aside from cleaning since my ‘training’ began.  I am told it is meant to mimic your size and…  _ acclimate _ me to you.  Keep me - prepared for you.”  The disdain he felt for it was conveyed abundantly through his tone.  He sounded disgusted.  Yuri wasn’t sure how to feel.  The idea that the slave had been wearing this the whole time, that it had been in while he’d sucked Yuri’s cock, while Yuri had touched him only moments ago, was arousing.  Still, the revulsion with with the slave spoke of it was difficult to brush aside.

 

“I’ll just-”  Yuri reached out, then drew back.  “Shall I remove it?”

 

“No, try to shove your cock in there with that thing still in,” the slave snarled.  Without thinking, Yuri brought down his hand on one of the firm globes of flesh before him, slapping the slave’s ass smartly.  He wasn’t certain which of them was more shocked at the action.  Still, he had to follow through.  It wouldn’t do for him to allow such disrespect to pass, any more than it would do for him to abandon his plans half carried out.  He grasped the warm metal and pulled.  It barely moved.  The slave cried out, then bit off the sound abruptly.

 

Yuri took a fortifying breath.  It had been removed and replaced at least once a day for weeks.  It had to come out without too great a discomfort.  It only needed a firmer hand, much like the slave himself.  Yuri braced one palm against the slave’s ass, pushing one cheek aside while giving himself leverage, and pulled again.  The plug came free, slipping out easily after the width of the base had been passed.  Yuri looked down at it, almost dismayed at how good a likeness it was to his cock.  Who even knew that much about him to make such a thing?

 

By the time Yuri looked up to where the plug had just come from, the tight circle of muscle there had clamped down, leaving flushed, vaguely irritated looking skin behind.  It was still shining with whatever oil had been used to ease the plug’s insertion.   _ Prepared for Yuri _ .  That had been the purpose.  To keep the slave slick and ready for him at any moment.

 

Again, a pulse of arousal went through Yuri.  At any moment, he could have bent the slave over and pushed his cock inside him.  He could fuck him, anytime he wanted.  It was an intoxicating kind of power.  Yuri’s hands trembled in anticipation as he gripped himself, more eager to be inside the slave than he’d ever been for anything in his life.  He would enjoy this, then he would roll the slave back over and watch him stroke himself, and then maybe, since the slave had given him such pleasure and been so good, Yuri would let him sleep there instead of returning to the harem.  He was already thinking about having the slave again in the morning as he pushed his cock down towards that welcoming heat.

 

As soon as their skin touched, the slave’s tension, impossibly, rose.  The hole Yuri had been so eagerly aiming for vanished beneath a bunching of muscle.  Yuri pushed at it, with little success.  He tried rubbing the head of his cock along the seam there blindly and thought for a moment he’d found the right spot, but as soon as he tried to push forward, the slave’s breath hitched and it was like pressing against a stone wall.  Not even the slickness there could ease him in.

 

“Damnit, relax!  I can’t get it-”  Yuri broke off as he looked up and caught sight of the slave’s knuckles.  They were blanched white where they still gripped the sheet.  The slave’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut, his skin sheened with clammy sweat.  Yuri’s mindless desire softened, and concern pricked him.  “Relax,” he said again, his tone far gentler than before.  “The size comparison is eerily accurate.  I am no bigger than what I just pulled out of you.  There won’t be any pain.  I want-” he paused, feeling uncertain and a little foolish.  “I want to bring you pleasure, too.”

 

The slave reared back, fury in his eyes.  “You can force me to let you shove whatever the fuck you want in me, but you can’t force me to enjoy it!”

 

Yuri stared at him, dumbfounded.  “Force?” he heard himself say faintly.  “I haven’t forced anything-”

 

“ _ Everything _ is force to those who don’t have the right to say no.”  The fire seemed to extinguish inside the slave as abruptly as it had come.  He dropped his forehead down to the bed and let out his breath in a shaky rush.  “Just get it over with.  I’m not stopping you.”

 

Yuri realized dimly, but unsurprisingly, that his cock had gone limp.  He felt vaguely sick.  He felt, almost, as though what he’d just tried to do had been some kind of… assault.  Which was ridiculous, because the man beneath him was a slave, and Yuri, his master.  He  _ belonged _ to Yuri.  It was akin to feeling as though he’d assaulted his chair, or his boots.  Asinine.  Impossible.

 

And yet.

 

Yuri drew back, tossing the coverlet over the slave’s body and sitting at the end of the bed with his knees drawn up.  The slave turned back to look at him and the candle at the bedside chose that moment to sputter out.  Yuri was grateful.  He did not want to see those dark eyes boring into him.  The silence that descended was thick and rife with tension.  Yuri grappled with his emotions, anger and resentment and guilt and shame all taking him in turns.

 

“You  _ chose _ to become a slave,” he whispered finally, as though saying those words into the void of darkness would absolve him.  He wanted them to.

 

“I did not choose to be a  _ pleasure _ slave.”

 

“But it is what you are.”

 

There was a low, defeated sigh from across the bed, and it seemed to Yuri to come from even farther than that.  “Yes.  I am.”  Then, somewhat more firmly, “do what you want.  I will manage to relax enough to let you in.”

 

“I- I find I am no longer interested in this.”

 

“No longer inte…”

 

“I am contrary and have a short attention span, haven’t you heard?  I’ve changed my mind and don’t want to do this now.  Maybe some other time, when you appeal to me more.”  Yuri shuffled up the bed until he was leaning against the headboard.  The slave’s body heat was a clear sign in the darkness of the presence beside him.  There were a few little puffs if air, as if the slave was opening his mouth and closing it, but in the end, he said nothing.

 

The seconds began to tick by endlessly.  Yuri fidgeted with the chain around his wrist.  He tried not to think of the way the slave’s knuckles had looked, accusingly stark and pale.  “Should I take this,” Yuri eventually ventured softly, “to mean that you are strongly opposed to taking a cock?”

 

There was a soft huff that might have been amusement, then, “if my personal feelings are being taken into account, then yes, that is an accurate assessment.”

 

“Is it all men, or my cock specifically that you are opposed to?”

 

“I am not against lying with men in general, but not as the receiving partner.  And if I ever  _ were _ to choose that position, it would not be under these circumstances.” 

 

“These circumstances being…?”

 

“Being having been tied down and fucked with carved cocks for weeks as part of my  _ training _ , having been denied the basic decency of clothing in the presence of others, some of them men I’ve known for most of my life, after having been forced to wear that  _ thing _ every moment in case my  _ master _ deigns to show his face, then having it practically ripped out, and in a situation in which I have no right to say no, in which I am forced to let it be done by a man I hold absolutely no regard for.  Those circumstances.”

 

“Oh.”  Yuri wasn’t certain what to say.  He didn’t want to even begin to contemplate what the slave had spoken of.  He didn’t want to think about what the training entailed, or how it would feel to a man who hadn’t a proper slave’s lack of will.  He didn’t want to try and consider who it was that the slave had been taken naked in front of that he’d known from his previous life, didn’t want to wonder how shamed Yuri himself would be if somehow the circumstances were reversed and he was put on display for people he’d known for years.  Didn’t want to think about the plug, or the cloudy subject of consent, or the fact that his slave seemed to despise him.  “I had planned to be gentle,” he muttered.  “I had thought you might take pleasure in your hand when I was done.”

 

“I can assure you, I would have no interest in pleasure after so unpleasant a performance as that.”

 

“You are aware that I can have you whipped for daring to say such things, aren’t you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“It would be well within my rights to have bits of you  _ removed _ for so bold an insult.”

 

“ _ At your command _ ,” the slave mocked the phrase meant to be the pinnacle of submission.  “Only I would rather you left my cock alone. It has already been mutilated enough at your whim.”

 

“A single piercing is hardly mutilation.  It is the standard mark of a pleasure slave.”

 

“Call it what you will.”

 

They lapsed into silence, and Yuri felt the emotional turmoil of the afternoon hit him all at once.  He was exhausted.  Suddenly, the trek back down to the slave quarters seemed like an inhuman feat.  He’d already considered letting the slave sleep in his bed, anyways.  It hardly seemed to matter at that point that it wouldn’t be with both of them thoroughly sated.

 

“I’ll think of a suitable punishment in the morning,” he muttered, pulling half the coverlet to himself.  If the slave replied, Yuri didn’t hear it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note here... there will be some Very Dubious Physics in this chapter and the next, involving what is possible to do while still chained to another person. Now would be the time to politely suspend reality a little and remember that this fictional chain is very long, very light, and does not tangle. Oh, and all their clothes lace up over one arm ><

Yuri’s head felt foggy, as if he’d had too much to drink.  Fatigue weighed him down heavily, making him want nothing more than to slip back into oblivion.  But there was something - something that was preventing him.  Some feeling of apprehension churning in his gut.

 

“-can’t break the fuckin’ chain! Let’s just cut ‘is hand off.”

 

“No, if there’s blood they’ll think the Prince is dead.  We’ve got to make sure there’s no doubt ‘es alive.”

 

The voices sounded as if they were echoing strangely, the words difficult for Yuri to understand.  Cut off his hand.  Like he’d thought the slave could.  But the slave didn’t.  These voices weren’t the slave’s.  They were - strangers.  Strangers in his rooms.

 

Fear made his mind clear enough for Yuri to focus his eyes.  The slave was slumped over, half sprawled across Yuri.  As if he’d been  _ defending _ the prince before he’d been knocked senseless by a blow to the head.  Blood was trickling from a gash across his eyebrow.  The chain attached to his wrist cuff was being held by two men.  They were bickering again, and Yuri couldn’t quite understand what they were saying.  Cut off his hand.  They meant the slave’s hand.  Not Yuri’s.  That was a relief, at least.  But no, they’d said they couldn’t.  Which was good, after all.  Yuri liked the slave’s hands.  Instead they would - 

 

“-take ‘em both.  The big ‘un’s out cold.  Look, ‘es a slave.  Not likely to give us much trouble.  Let’s just get the fuckin’ ‘ell outta here before the guards find us!”

 

Yuri would have laughed out loud if his lips weren’t numb.  His slave was unlike any other.  And he would give them plenty of trouble.  Provided, of course, that he ever woke up from the blow they’d given him.  And he had to.  The slave was too stubborn to die.

 

“‘Ey, the prince’s awake!”

 

“Quick, douse ‘im again before he calls for help!”

 

Yuri could have saved them the effort - he was in no condition to call for anyone.  He could barely keep his eyelids cracked, could barely think.  But then a sharp smelling cloth covered his nose and mouth, and Yuri found he lost the ability to do even those.

 

***

 

Sunlight was hitting Yuri’s eyelids far too insistently.  It was painful.  In fact, Yuri’s head hurt so much that he was certain it would crack open if that damned sunlight wasn’t dimmed.

 

“Close’th curtains,” he demanded, voice still slurred and rough from sleep.  There was a thud, a shout, cursing, but no one appeared to be obeying his command.  “Close the damn curtains!”

 

“You’re going to have-” there was another thud, then a grunt, “to fucking-” something like cloth tearing followed by a shriek, “ _ wait!” _  The slave sounded out of breath and incredibly pissed off.  Yuri understood being grumpy in the morning, but really, this was too much.  He cracked open his eyes and pushed himself upright with a huff, prepared to give the slave a piece of his mind, when there was a sharp tug at the chain on his wrist and a body went flying past him.

 

Yuri was not in his bed in the palace.  He was in the back of a wagon, in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere.  The body that had gone by righted itself and charged forward again with a shrill kind of battle cry.  He was aimed for the slave, who was dodging a knife that the second man was wielding.  Yuri was still groggy and unsure what the hell was going on, but he wasn’t an idiot.  He knew where his best odds of survival lay.

 

He stuck out his foot as the first man went barrelling past him, tripping him up and sending him sprawling in the dirt.  Meanwhile, the slave let the second man get close enough to rake the blade across his chest, then used the momentum of it to pull the man closer and bring his knee up to his stomach.  The blade dropped to the ground as the man let out a winded wail of pain.  The slave brought his knee up again, this time slamming the other man’s face down onto it.  Blood sprayed.  The man went limp.

 

The first man had recovered from his fall and swung his angry gaze to Yuri.  Before Yuri could even think about defending himself, the man had him in a headlock and was squeezing, using Yuri as a shield against the slave.  The slave studied them carefully, then began to advance.

 

“S-stop there or I’ll break ‘is fuckin’ neck.  I will!”

 

The slave did not stop.  He plucked the knife from the ground as he passed by it, continuing to walk towards them.  The arm around Yuri’s neck tightened.  The bastard was really going to do it.  He was going to snap Yuri’s neck, and there was nothing Yuri could do to stop it.  His fingers scrabbled uselessly against the meaty forearm across his windpipe, panic rising sharply.

 

“Don’t come any closer or I’ll-”  There was a blur of something through the air, then the words cut off.  The grip on Yuri slackened.  The man dropped to the ground.  When Yuri stumbled away, he saw the handle of the blade sticking out from the man’s eye.  Nausea rioled through him and Yuri fell to his knees in the dirt, vomiting bile.  Yuri told himself it was the after effects of the drug he’d been given, not seeing a man killed.  He was a prince, after all.  He was dignified, tough, able to handle any-

 

“Get up.”  The slave was standing over Yuri, wiping blood out of his eyes.  His wound from the night before had reopened.  He hardly even seemed to notice the slash across his chest.

 

“You- you could have hit me,” Yuri managed to say accusingly.  It sounded perilously close to a whine.

 

“I didn’t hit you.”

 

“He could have broken my neck!”

 

“I killed him before he did.”

 

“That’s not the point!”  Yuri rose, angry at being contradicted, angry at being kidnapped, angry that a slave had seen him so weak.  He pushed his finger against the slave’s chest insolently.  “You should have taken more care, slave!  I demand that you-”

 

The slave’s hand shot out, wrapping around Yuri’s neck in a dangerously tight grip.  “Demand all you want,” he hissed.  “My name is not  _ slave _ .  It is Otabek.  And the only reason I don’t rip your hand off and free myself of your  _ dead weight _ , is that I owe my fealty to your brother, the king.  But make no mistake.  We are no longer in the palace.  We are no longer in the  _ country _ .  If you put your hands on me, if you  _ push me _ too far, I will change my mind about treason and kill you myself.”

 

Yuri barely managed to stop himself from stumbling back in shock.  No one had ever spoken to him that way before.  Suddenly, the wild animal he’d compared the slave to the night before seemed like an accurate assessment indeed.

 

“I don’t suppose,” he managed to say, keeping his eyes trained on the slave for any sudden movements, “that it would do me any good to remind you that once we get back to the palace I could have you executed for treason because of that threat?”

 

The slave - Otabek - let out a sigh and ran one hand tiredly through his hair.  “You suppose correctly.”  There was a drawn out silence, then Otabek shook his head.  “But the point will be a moot one if we don’t manage to get back to the palace.”

 

Yuri waved that away.  “We can just wait here.  My brother will have people out searching for me already.  They are sure to find us by nightfall.”

 

“I doubt that.  They couldn’t even reach us by then.”

 

“What do you mean?  We haven’t been on the road for more than, what-” he glanced up at the position of the sun, “six or seven hours?”

 

Otabek’s brow furrowed and he shook his head again.  “You were unconscious for longer than you think.  We were taken from the palace the night before last and have been moving quickly ever since.”  Yuri looked around in shock, as if the barren landscape could show him just how far they’d travelled.  “I told you, we aren’t even in the country any longer.  We are countless leagues away from anyone who would help us, naked, penniless, and without supplies.  Even the horses ran off in the fight.  We have only this rotting wagon for shelter, two dead bodies to loot, and this fucking chain that we can’t get off.”

 

Yuri didn’t know what to say.  He’d never handled anything like this before.  He’d never been in real danger in his life before last night.  Everything he’d ever needed had been provided for him, his slightest whim catered to.  Now, he had nothing.

 

“Th-the slave-master said the chain will break with fire.  We can just build a fire, and…”  

 

“He said  _ forge fire _ .  Have you never seen a forge before?  A simple campfire is nowhere near hot enough to melt this metal.”

 

“Then- then-”  Yuri stopped, realizing he was close to hysteria.  He was utterly destitute, and literally chained to a man who saw him as the enemy.  A man who could easily overpower him and carry out his threat to kill Yuri to free himself.  The slave was watching him, grimaced, then took a step forward.  “Stay back!” Yuri demanded, putting up his hands as if that would protect him.  No, he wasn’t weak or fragile, but he’d known all along that he stood no chance against the slave like this.  Hadn’t that been part of the appeal?

 

Otabek stopped and cursed softly.  “I’m not-”  He put his arms out, wrists displayed vulnerably, the same way he had at the palace to show submission.  “I should not have said that, before.  I won’t… I have no intention of harming you.  I won’t be spreading my legs for you, but I’m not going to hurt you.  We’re going to have to work together to get back home.”

 

“So you claim you are not my enemy, but not my slave.  What are you, then?”

 

“Temporarily?  An ally.  Your only ally.”

 

“And if we-  _ when _ we make it back to the palace?”

 

Otabek gazed at him quietly for a long while, then lifted one shoulder in a shrug.  “I guess that’s for you to decide.  But for now, we have work to do.”  He didn’t wait for Yuri to acknowledge his statement, but turned and began stripping down the kidnapper he was closest to.  Yuri cringed.

 

“What are you-”

 

“Unless you’d rather make your way back to your palace as naked as the day you were born, I suggest you do the same to the other one,” Otabek called over his shoulder.  Yuri shuddered, eyeing the man with the knife through his eye.  The clothes were ill kept and certainly wouldn’t fit, but they would at least be closer to his size than those of the man Otabek was stripping.  Steeling his nerves, Yuri set about taking shirt, trousers, and boots from the body.

 

By the time he had dressed himself as best he could, the slave had already finished and was rifling through the wagon.  If possible, he looked even more ridiculous than Yuri did.  The breeches were too short in the leg but too big at the waist, even cinched in with a belt.  The shirt was barely  holding together, stretched near to bursting across Otaken’s broad chest and shoulders.  At the very least, it looked as though the boots fit him properly, which was a far cry from the way Yuri’s did.

 

“There’s a canteen of water here that should last us a few days if we’re careful, and I found a few coins in his pockets.  If we come upon a town, it could get us better fitting clothes, but I doubt it would cover a room for the night.  If we are very, very lucky, we might find a smith willing to let us take off this chain in his forge.”

 

“How far are we from a town?”

 

“I have no idea.  Whatever drug they used didn’t affect me as strongly as it did you, but between that and the blow I took to the head, I wasn’t able to see much of what was going on outside the wagon.”  He stood up and moved over to the body Yuri had stripped.  “Look away,” he ordered gruffly.

 

“What?”

 

“Look away!”  

 

Yuri obeyed out of sheer shock, but was grateful that he had when a moment later he heard a sound like a melon cracking.  Otabek sunk the blade he’d pulled free into the ground to clean it of blood, then tucked it into his belt.  “Th-that blow to your eye…”  Yuri busied himself inspecting the chain around his wrist and tried not to think of the blade again.  “You got that trying to protect me?”

 

Otabek looked up, expression guarded.  “They seemed to have been surprised to find you were not alone in bed.”

 

“It would have gone easier for you, if you’d offered to help them.”

 

“ _ Help _ them?”

 

Yuri shrugged.  “You made it clear that you have no regard for me.  Surely even fealty to your king would take a back seat to two armed kidnappers who had you at their mercy.”

 

“I dislike seeing anyone helpless.”  He paused, searching the horizon for Yuri knew not what.  “And- and despite my personal feelings about you, I had made my choice.  Not to be yours specifically, no, but I gave myself up as a slave of my own free will.  It might not have seemed like it, but I was  _ trying _ .  To be what was expected of me.”

 

“I don’t think anyone would expect a slave to defend his master against such odds.  No one would think a slave capable.”

 

“Yes, well I am, and I did.  It was the right thing to do.”

 

“It’ll scar.”

 

“What?”  Otabek looked up when Yuri gestured to his eyebrow, as if he could see the cut himself.  He huffed out a laugh.  “It won’t be my first.”  Yuri was about to comment on the other scars when Otabek turned away.  “Come on, we should get going.  We want to get as far as we can before nightfall.”  He started off.  Yuri trotted to catch him, cursing the ill fitting boots.

 

“How do you know which way to go?”

 

“The sun rises in the east behind the mountains in the capitol.  Which means we need to go west back through them to get home.”

 

“We have to go  _ over _ the mountains?”

 

“We didn’t go over them to get here, that would have taken much longer.  There must be a pass.  We just have to find it.  Or better yet, find a town first, and a local who is willing to show us where it’s at.”

 

Yuri wanted to believe that they would only need to explain who he was and they would be provided everything they needed until Victor could come rescue him, but he was beginning to doubt that things would be that simple.


	4. Chapter 4

Yuri had always considered himself to be strong and fit.  He was an excellent fencer, decent horseman, and even a fair archer.  Despite the privileged life he had lived, he was not slovenly or soft bellied.  Still, none of those things meant anything against this kind of physical demand.  Hours of walking was tiring enough on no food and with the drug still making its way out of his system, but worse was the shape his feet were in.  They slipped forward in the too-large boots with every step, and slid back when he picked his foot up again.  The brittle leather had rubbed the skin of his ankles and heels raw, then stripped it away entirely.

 

His complaint to Otabek had been met with a sharp dismissal.  Admittedly, it had come after Yuri had complained about the heat, the bugs, the brightness of the sunlight, and his lack of breakfast, but still, Yuri was chaffed that he’d been so dismissed.  Now, he gritted his teeth and pushed through the pain out of sheer spite.  Clearly, Otabek thought him spoiled, soft, and bratty.  And perhaps, in some ways, he was.  But he was also iron-willed and more than willing to endure pain to prove a point.

 

The determination not to say another word about the problem had waned nearly to breaking by the time Otabek stopped them for the night.  Yuri practically collapsed to the ground in relief.  With a muttered rebuke about Yuri’s stamina, Otabek went off in search of supplies to make shelter and start a fire, putting as much distance between them as the chain would allow.

 

Yuri unlaced one boot and gently peeled the leather away from his ankle.  Blood oozed up.  Yuri put his foot back down, not daring to take the boot off.

 

By the time the sun had set, Otabek had put up branches against a dead tree for a simple shelter, started a fire, caught several fish from a nearby stream, and washed himself while he was at it.  Yuri had felt sorry for himself and managed not to whimper.  He ate the fish Otabek cooked for him in silence, ignored Otabek’s suggestion that he go down to the stream himself to bathe, and hobbled to the shelter as soon as it was dark enough to hide the grimace on his face as he did.

 

He could hear Otabek grumbling about his behavior as he cleaned away the remnants of their meal, but Yuri couldn’t force himself to care.  Slowly, cautiously, biting his lip to stifle any sounds he might make, Yuri pulled his foot out of the first boot.  There was a wet sound, and several chunks of his skin remained behind.  Yuri barely noticed the tears rolling down his cheeks.  He turned to the other boot.  Slowly, with shaking hands, he began to remove it.

 

‘If you think I’m going to-”  Otabek ducked into the little shelter just as Yuri pulled the boot free.  Blood spattered the ground.  “Saint’s mercy _ , _ ” he breathed in shock.  “What the hell happened?”

 

Yuri bared his teeth in a snarl, not realizing that much of the menace of the expression was lost because of the tears on his face.  “Fuck off!”

 

“Let me help,” Otabek began, reaching out, but Yuri knocked his hands away.

 

“I can deal with it on my own.  I’m not  _ whining _ to you any more.”

 

Otabek drew back.  “Is that why you didn’t say anything?  Because I told you to stop whining?  I meant about the dust and the sun and whatever other little fucking thing you were complaining about.  I didn’t mean not to say something if you’re  _ actually _ hurt!”

 

“I can deal with it if you can-” Yuri’s breath caught as a chunk of skin that had been hanging from his foot peeled off and fell to the dirt.  He whimpered.

 

Otabek cursed and scooped Yuri into his arms, uncaring of what protests Yuri might have offered.  He strode through the trees to the stream and sat Yuri down on a boulder along its edge, plunging his feet into the icy water.  Yuri jerked, then slowly relaxed as the water soothed the throbbing pain. 

 

“You’re an idiot.”

 

Yuri snapped out of his relief and turned his glare on Otabek.  “I’m a whiny brat if I complain, and I’m an idiot if I don’t.  You give me whiplash with your changing expectations.”  Otabek sighed rather than rise to Yuri’s vitriol.

 

“Do I seem to be a cruel man to you?  Callous?  Sadistic?  No?”  He began unbuttoning Yuri’s shirt, and Yuri was too shocked to protest.  “Then what would make you think that I would expect you to walk like this?”  He gestured down to Yuri’s feet with the shirt he’d just pulled off.  “That is not a minor discomfort.  It is not an inconvenience like the sun being too bright or the flies buzzing by your ear.”  He had Yuri’s belt undone before Yuri managed to put a hand out and stop him.

 

“Wh-what are you doing?”

 

“Your highness needs to bathe. You’ve somehow managed to get blood in your hair.  If we do come across a town, we don’t want them to think you’re some kind of ruffian.”

 

“You shouldn’t- I can…” he flushed red, trailing off.

 

Otabek leveled his gaze at Yuri.  “You had me suck your cock before you even knew my name and now you want to be modest?”

 

“That was different!”

 

“How?”

 

“You were-”

 

“Your slave?”

 

“ _ Yes! _ ”

 

“Then think of me that way still if it comforts you.”  Otabek stripped the trousers off, taking care not to bump Yuri’s injured feet.  Once the prince was naked, Otabek scooped him up again and settled him in a shallow, sandy pool of water.  Yuri shivered, the coolness that had been a blessed relief on his feet not nearly so kind on the rest of him.  “Hold your breath,” Otabek instructed gruffly.  Yuri barely had time to comply before Otabek dumped water over his head.  Yuri sputtered and glowered at Otabek through a curtain of wet hair, his teeth chattering.  He quickly rinsed the dirt and grime from his body while Otabek poured more water over his head until the last traces of blood had gone.

 

After inspecting Yuri’s feet more closely, Otabek gave them one last dunk in the water and then carried Yuri back to their makeshift camp.  He set Yuri down on his trousers by the fire and slipped the overly large shirt over his head.  When Yuri was covered, he sat behind him on a fallen log and began picking out the snarls in Yuri’s long hair with surprisingly gentle fingers.

 

“They’re not bleeding anymore, which is good.  They should have ointment and wraps and be rested for a few days, but since none of that is possible, letting them dry and scab is probably our best option.  You’re not going to be able to wear those boots again, though.  We’re going to have to figure something else out.”

 

Yuri didn’t reply.  It seemed pointless.  What else was there to figure out?  Yuri couldn’t very well go barefoot, especially now that he had open sores for the grime to get into.  There wasn’t anywhere they could go buy a new pair of boots from, nor was he certain they had enough money for an even passably decent pair.  He couldn’t go on, and no one could find him, so he would probably die in these damned woods.

 

“You’re good at that,” he said instead, gesturing to his hair.  Otabek chuckled, running his fingers through the strands to check for more knots.

 

“When you have five sisters all with long hair, you learn to-” he stopped abruptly, as if upset that he’d let the personal information slip at all.

 

“You have five sisters?”  Yuri saw the curt nod out of the corner of his eye and wondered what it would take to make Otabek open up more.  Yuri could use the distraction from his own hopelessness.

 

“I only have the one brother, and he's only ever around long enough to nag me before he's too busy to bother again, my parents died so long ago that I barely remember them…”

 

“I know.”

 

Of course Otabek knew about the deaths of the old king and queen, and knew who Yuri’s brother was.  The entire country knew.  “It must be nice.  Having a big family.”

 

“It was.”

 

“Was?”  Yuri held his breath, thinking perhaps something terrible had happened to them.

 

“They- I had to-” he stopped, turning away.  It hit Yuri, then.

 

“Slaves have no family,” he whispered.  Whatever bonds a person had before becoming a slave were severed upon their claiming.  They could have no ties but to their masters.  “You… do you miss them?”

 

“Of course I do.”

 

The simple statement, spoken with such quiet conviction, only confused Yuri further.  Nothing about Otabek made sense.  He had apprenticed in a trade, was strong and obviously not afraid of hard work.  He had a family that he loved and missed, a place where he belonged.  So why would he choose to give all that up?  To cosign himself to a life he clearly was not suited for?

 

“Why did you become a slave?”

 

“You wouldn’t understand.”

 

“You had to have known you would be sacrificing all autonomy.”

 

“I did.”

 

“And yet you couldn’t allow yourself to be fucked, even after training and preparation.”

 

“I would have-”

 

“Did you honestly believe you would be able to surrender yourself completely, as required of a slave?”

 

“I could have!  If anything else had been asked of me I would have!  I would have sacrificed my life on the front lines of a battle, worked myself down to nothing at any trade I was applied to.  That was what I expected.  And then- and then  _ you _ came!”  His hands tightened in Yuri’s hair, then released it, fanning it over Yuri’s shoulders softly.  “It never once crossed my mind that anyone would want me for-  _ that _ .  I am not fair or delicate or unblemished the way pleasure slaves are.  I had resigned myself to never being involved with anyone sexually again.  I was not prepared to be forced to allow my own violation, nor to be turned into nothing more than a convenient hole to fuck.”

 

Yuri bit his lip, feeling ashamed for the part he’d played in Otabek’s fate.  “Was the training really that bad?”

 

“It was worse.”

 

“And me?”

 

Otabek sighed.  “You… you were exactly as I thought you would be.”  Yuri flinched.  “And yet nothing like I expected.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Your brother is the most beloved King this country has ever had.  In the years since the old King and Queen’s deaths, he has worked tirelessly to bring about peace and prosperity.  The law changes that he’s made have been just and benevolent.  No one could ask for a better ruler.  All that remained was for him to take a companion and make an heir, and the kingdom loves Yuuri almost as much as they love Victor.  He has done more than anyone could ever have expected of him.

 

“But you… I do not believe that anyone has ever expected you to do anything in your life.  And it has done you no favors.  You’re an adult who has never had to take responsibility for his own life, let alone another’s.  You are petulant when you don’t get your way, insensitive to the needs of others, demanding, rude, and utterly spoiled.  When you came to the courtyard that day and demanded that I be yours, I thought that there could be no worse fate for me.  And in many ways, I was right.”  Yuri cringed again, but Otabek did not seem to notice.  “Being a pleasure slave is the last thing I would have wanted for myself.  And when you finally came for me, you treated me exactly as I thought you would.  You did not care at all who I was - you hardly even seemed to notice that I was a human being.

 

“I’ll admit your innocence surprised me; it was even somewhat endearing.  I took some small satisfaction in making you come undone with such ease.  But that was not enough to outweigh your actions and words.  Parading me naked past the guards, many of whom had frequented my father’s shop since my childhood.  Threatening to have other men fuck me while you watched.  Ordering me to your bed for you to mount, when it must have been obvious how much I did not want it.

 

“You were a perfect study in how to effortlessly humiliate a man.  To degrade him until he feels like less than a dog.  Because, of course, a slave does not even deserve that title, do they?”

 

“Otabek, I-”

 

“And then, just when I thought I knew exactly what you would do next… you stopped.”  Otabek let out a breath, raking his hand through his hair.  “You had every right to do as you pleased.  I would have controlled myself enough to let it happen.  But you didn’t.  You stopped.  And nothing I knew about you explained why you would do such a thing.  Which makes me hope,  _ believe _ , that there is more to you than snide remarks and selfishness.”

 

Otabek ran his fingers through Yuri’s hair again, gathered it into sections, and quickly braided it.  He tied it off with a thread he pulled loose from his fraying shirt.  The fire popped and crackled, burning low.  Yuri stared into the flames, feeling like he’d lived his entire life with blinders on, and now they were being ripped away.  As if empathising with another person on a basic human level, opening himself up to how someone else experienced the world, caring about anyone other than just himself, had truly opened his eyes for the first time.  When Otabek went to stand, Yuri caught his hand.

 

“I- I hope there is too.  More to me.”

 

Otabek looked down at him in the fading firelight, perhaps seeing Yuri more clearly than he had ever seen himself.  “Come on, let’s get some sleep.  Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

 

Yuri let himself be helped into the shelter without another word.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note here, this chapter contains descriptions of an incident that in a sane world would absolutely be considered sexual assault. The circumstances/setting here make it more complex than that, but just a warning that it may be difficult to read.

In the morning, Yuri woke to the sound of Otabek cursing.  His feet ached, his body was sore, but considering Yuri wasn’t beaten or raped or torn limb from limb or whatever his kidnappers had had planned for him, overall things could have been significantly worse.  It was only because of Otabek that they weren’t.

 

Otabek, who Yuri had humiliated and degraded without even trying to.  Yuri felt himself flush with shame once more.  There was nothing he could do to change the past, but perhaps he could help now.  He rose gingerly and went to see what Otabek was doing.

 

Bits of fabric and leather were spread out on a bed of pine needles, with Otabek sitting in the middle.  He seemed to be attempting to saw through the sole of the boot Yuri had been wearing the day before… with a rock.

 

“Fucking  _ fuck _ ,” Otabek seethed as the jagged edge of the rock that had been barely piercing the thick leather crumbled away.

 

“Rough morning?”

 

Otabek barely glanced up, instead swearing again and picking up another rock with a sharp edge.  “It wouldn’t be such a rough morning,” he bit out, each word punctuated by a hacking stab at the leather, “if I had any fucking  _ tools _ ,” another several stabs, then the sharp edge chipped away, “or if the rocks here weren’t  _ absolutely fucking useless _ !”  He threw the useless rock away and clamped the piece of leather between his teeth.  On a massive pull, the leather split along the seam Otabek had made with the rocks.  He spat out the remaining leather and cleared his throat.  “ _ There _ .”

 

“Uh, yay?  What the hell are you doing?”

 

“Being a cobbler for the day.  Come sit over here.”  He gestured to the log in front of him and Yuri sat, pulling down the edge of the oversized shirt as he did.  “I ripped off the bottoms of those trousers you were wearing to wrap your feet in - don’t worry, I washed them thoroughly - and they should protect you from the worst of the dust and friction.”  He took one strip of fabric that had been drying by the fire and began wrapping it carefully but firmly around Yuri’s foot.  The heat felt incredible, and having Otabek’s fingers working over him so gently sent a strange thrill through Yuri’s belly.  Otabek wrapped the other foot next, then reached for the soles that he had cut.  “Now that these are closer to your size, I should be able to use the laces from the boots to wrap around and hold them on-”

 

“Like sandals!”  Yuri looked down at his newly clad foot and beamed.  Otabek had taken apart the boots, cut the soles down to fit him, and then held them on his feet with the boot laces acting like sandal straps.  Best of all, with the thick wraps around Yuri’s feet, the laces didn’t rub against his skin.  “That’s genius!”

 

“It’s, well-”  Otabek looked up, grinning a little crookedly.  “Let’s see how they work.”  He stood and pulled Yuri to his feet.  There was still pain where the worst of the sores were, but Yuri was able to move with no trouble.

 

“They’re perfect.”

 

“That’s - good.  That’s good.  I figured we would take it easy today anyways, but this should take care of our most immediate problem.  We’ll have to keep an eye out for infection, though.”

 

Yuri nodded along, still smiling.  He’d been so certain that there was nothing to be done last night, and Otabek had solved a problem that Yuri had thought was insurmountable.  Suddenly, he felt as though they could accomplish anything.  They were sure to come across a town soon, and maybe there they could even get a horse.  Then someone would show them the way to the mountain pass, and they would be back in the capital before Yuri had time to worry about things like infections.  And then, then Yuri and Otabek- 

 

What would they be, then?

 

Would Otabek go back to being Yuri’s pleasure slave?  Yuri knew he couldn’t fuck him, knowing how he felt about it now.  So what, then?  Leave him to live out his life, undisturbed, in the harem?  Yuri didn’t think Otabek would want that, either.  He could offer to free Otabek, but he still had no idea what had driven Otabek to give himself into slavery in the first place.  He didn’t know what Otabek really  _ wanted _ .

 

“We should probably get going if we hope to find a town today.”  Yuri turned away, his confidence soured.  Maybe they did stand a chance of getting back home.  But that didn’t solve all their problems.

 

“Yeah,” Otabek agreed behind him, not certain what had turned Yuri’s mood.  “You finish getting dressed while I fill the canteen.  I’ll douse the fire when you’re done.”

 

Yuri nodded and grabbed the shortened trousers.

 

***

 

The day passed both too quickly and too slowly.  They made frequent stops to rest Yuri’s feet, which meant that they didn’t cover as much ground as they had the day before.  It was nearing dusk, and Yuri felt as though they had hardly made any progress at all.  He was sore, discouraged, and wanted nothing more than to soak in a hot, private bath while servants brought him a feast to dine on.  The closest he got was a quick splash in another icy stream.

 

Otabek checked his feet over carefully, washed blood out of the wraps and set them to dry, and caught them more fish for dinner.  Yuri had never felt so useless in his life.  He wondered what the point of his existence was.  The kingdom had its leader, and no doubt Victor and his consort would be adopting a dozen brats to name as heirs any day now.  He wasn’t a diplomat, didn’t know a trade, had no real talents at all.  He was just as spoiled as Otabek had said, and even if he could change that, what was the point?  His entire  _ life _ was pointless.  If he blinked out of existence, the world would be utterly unaffected.

 

“If this stream broadens into a river, there’s a good chance that there’ll be a town along it.  As long as it keeps going west, we can follow it and see if we get lucky.”

 

“Sure,” Yuri agreed listlessly.

 

“I was thinking, depending on the town, we might be better off staying for a day or two.  If I can do a few days work, it might be enough to get us a horse.  That would more than make up for the lost time.”

 

“Whatever you think.”

 

Otabek studied him from across the fire, running the thin chain through his fingers absently.  “Is something wrong?”

 

“Huh?”  

 

“You seem… quiet.” 

 

Yuri looked up, surprised that Otabek would notice or bother to ask.  “I’m fine.”

 

“Are you sure?  You’ve been through a lot the last few days.  It’s not unheard of for a reaction to trauma to be delayed.”

 

“How do you  _ know _ things like that?!”  Yuri threw the little rocks he’d been absently collecting from the dirt.  Otabek’s brow furrowed in surprise and concern.  “You smith and make shoes and save lives and catch fish and know how people react to trauma and you’re a  _ slave _ .  I’m a  _ prince _ , and I can’t do  _ anything _ !  How can you be so- so-”

 

“I wasn’t always a slave,” Otabek reminded him softly.

 

“Right.  You had a perfect life that you gave up to come to the palace.  And then I tormented you, as if my existence isn’t already inexcusable enough.”

 

“You did not-” Otabek stopped, running his hand through his hair in what Yuri was coming to know as a gesture of agitation.  “I do not believe you meant to be cruel to me.  I do not think you were malicious in your intent, despite your actions.  That night-” he swallowed, then shook his head and went on.  “That night was not my worst in the palace, and I might not have borne you you such ill will if the weeks previous had not been so… unpleasant.”

 

“Because of the training you were subjected to at  _ my _ request.”

 

“Did you know?” Otabek asked, dark eyes pinning Yuri in place.  “Did you know what they would do to me, in the training?”  

 

Yuri shook his head, for once, innocent in the matter.

 

“Ignorance is not an absolution of guilt, but I- I don’t blame you for it.  The trainers… they seemed so unfazed by it.  It must be the standard training for a male pleasure slave.  They did not see it as a violation, or as demeaning.  So how could you, who did not even know what would happen, be held accountable for how it affected me?”  He wrapped the chain around his fist so tightly that it bit into his skin.  “Even that first day in the courtyard.  Picking me.  You said that you’ve had others beg you for the chance to become your pleasure slave.  Another might have been  _ grateful _ for the opportunity.  I… I cannot hold against you something which a slave should have no right to resent.  You did not know me.  And I had signed away my say in what happened to me.  It was not done - with courtesy, no.  But you broke no rules by your actions.”

 

Hearing Otabek free him from blame for what had happened was a relief that Yuri hadn’t realized he needed.  The more he came to know Otabek, the more he realized he owed the man, the more the guilt of it had weighed on him.  He did not want to be responsible for Otabek’s misery.  But Otabek was right about something; ignorance was not absolution of guilt.

 

“What happened, during your training?”

 

Otabek said nothing.  After a while he rose and crawled into the shelter he’d made for them.  Yuri watched the fire die, feeling like he’d made another mistake and caused Otabek more pain.  When the last embers were flickering, he slipped into the shelter and laid down beside Otabek, trying not to disturb him.

 

“They did the piercing, first,” Otabek said softly from beside him.  Yuri turned, surprised Otabek was still awake and even more surprised he was talking about the training.  Yuri could not see Otabek’s face in the darkness, but he could practically  _ hear _ the expression of distaste that would be twisted on it.  “There was some kindness in that, despite the pain.  It was the worst physical pain of the whole ordeal, and not something I would wish upon any man.  It bled for days.  The burn when I relieved myself was agony.  It wasn’t even healed before they started the rest of it.  I was kept naked the entire time, which was perhaps not as bad because none of the pleasure slaves were clothed, but in the presence of the trainers and the slave-master, it was degrading.

 

“They gave me carved phalluses to practice sucking, and they were forced deeper and deeper into my throat until I learned to stop gagging.  One was strapped to me and kept there for hours at a time to train my jaw not to tire.  When it was finally removed, I would have to assume the submission pose and ask properly in order to be given water.

 

“Once the piercing was mostly healed, they began training- other parts of me.  Every day I was stretched and oiled, with progressively larger plugs put inside me.  I was not allowed to protest.  I was given no rest, no privacy, and no relief.  If I refused to comply, I was tied down and they continued on anyways.  Resisting brought nothing but pain.  Eventually, I stopped fighting.  By then, I was made to wear one all the time, only allowed to remove it to relieve myself and bathe.

 

“I was reminded again and again that I was there only to serve my master’s pleasure, and that my own needs had no bearing.  I was not to expect pleasure from my master unless it was a privilege he deigned to give.  As if I could possibly enjoy sex like that.  I was told that I must be ready, at every moment, to offer myself to him.  That I did not own my body and had no say in what was to happen to it.  My only purpose was to part my legs when told.

 

“I could not accept that.  I could not make myself content to give pleasure to someone I cared nothing for, could not pretend to be nothing but eager to serve when my body was being used against my nature.  So they made me  _ practice _ .  One of them would thrust into me with a phallus until I could act the part.  Until I looked properly subservient.  I was never successful to their satisfaction.  My face is not one inclined to deep expression, and I have no talent at pretending.  So they repeated the ordeal, over and over again.  And all the while I was reminded of how fortunate it was that you had not come for me yet, because the prince could never be satisfied with so stark and willful a pleasure slave - that surely I would be cast off.  For which I fervently prayed each day.  And yet it seemed as though you would never come.

 

“Until you did.”

 

“Back at the palace, when I said you could stop yourself from being fucked by others, and you asked if that included your trainers-  _ this _ is what you meant?”  Yuri felt sick.  He had tried, throughout the course of Otabek’s tale, to remind himself that what was done to him was no different than what was done to all pleasure slaves.  That the training is a  _ kindness _ to the slaves, as it prepares them for their masters.  But what left Yuri furious and nauseated was that Otabek had  _ fought back _ .  He had to be tied down for them to continue.

 

“Yes.”

 

There was no concept of raping a pleasure slave because slaves did not object.  They signed themselves over to their masters’ wills, wholly.  Yuri had never heard of a pleasure slave saying  _ no _ .  But this one had.  And he had been forced anyways.  Sanctioned violation.  An assault that the slave trainers were within their every right to continue by the laws.  Yuri could not understand how such a thing could come about.

 

And who was he to blame?  The trainers, for doing what they thought best to handle a willful slave?  Hadn’t Yuri had a perilously similar thought that night at the palace?  Otabek himself, for giving himself as a slave when it was something he so clearly did not want?  The laws, which Victor had so carefully reworked to avoid any type of situation such as this?

 

It was as if every little piece of it had come together to create the worst possible scenario, and Otabek had been its victim. 

 

“It- it is not meant to be like that.  If my brother knew that you had been used that way against your will-”

 

“ _ What _ will?  A slave is supposed to have none.”

 

“But  _ you do! _ ” 

 

There was a silence, and neither of them seemed to be able to find any words to break it.  Yuri was filled to overflowing with anger and regret at what had been done to Otabek, directly because of Yuri’s own actions.  And over all that the question continued to eat at him - why had Otabek become a slave?

 

“It will never happen again,” Yuri swore.  “Not like that.  Not to you, not to anyone.  I will see to it personally.  It won’t change what happened, but I can make sure it is never repeated.  And… for the part I played in it… I’m sorry, Otabek.  I- I never meant-”

 

A soft touch at his shoulder stopped Yuri’s fumbled words.  Otabek’s fingers were warm against Yuri’s skin, the callouses somehow reassuring in their honesty.  “Thank you,” he whispered.

 

Yuri’s promise could not undo what had been done, and his apology would not erase Otabek’s nightmarish memories of being forced to beg for  _ more please _ when inside he was screaming  _ please stop _ .  But they could be the start of something bigger than either of them.  Otabek knew that Yuri could go back on that promise.  He’d said, that first night, that he was contrary and changeable.  They might get back to the palace and he would forget that he’d ever heard a word of Otabek’s story.  But Otabek chose to believe that would not happen.  That the prince was, buried beneath the indulgence and temper, a good man.  His contrition at Otabek’s pain was genuine.  And that was enough.

 

Yuri reached up, hesitantly, and put his hand over Otabek’s.  Neither of them pulled away.


	6. Chapter 6

They followed the stream the next day, and just as Otabek had thought, it widened into a river, beside which, a small hamlet was situated.  Yuri wanted to weep with relief, despite the fact that they had little money and even less hope of generosity.  He could only imagine what they would look like to the villagers - Otabek’s shirt now torn at the seams, Yuri swimming in his own clothes, both of them dusty from travel and chained together.

 

It did not help matters, either, that neither of them had what could be referred to as friendly faces.

 

They were cast curious and distrustful looks from the first.  Yuri realized that most of the stares lingered longest on the chain between them, so he began wrapping the length around his wrist to hide it, and soon Otabek did the same.  Their hands so close together must have given Otabek an idea, because he linked their fingers, and suddenly it did not look as though they were chained together, but rather a couple holding hands and wearing strange, matching bracelets.

 

Yuri wanted to buy clothes first, but Otabek reasoned that they needed to keep a hold of every copper they had in case the blacksmith would not help them without pay.  Yuri thought that the smith would be more likely to help two decently dressed travelers rather than ratty looking vagabonds, but the idea of remaining chained for lack of a few coppers had him agreeing to Otabek’s plan.

 

The bell above the door to the smithy rang as they entered, and a moment later, a burly, dour faced man emerged from the back room.  He looked them over from head to toe and crossed his massive arms.

 

“Well met, sir,” Otabek greeted politely.  “We are hoping that you might be of assistance to us.”

 

The blacksmith looked at them steadily, then said, “if your horses need shoeing, the stable is well supplied.”

 

“Ah, no.”  Otabek raised their hands and began to unwind the chain.  “We have a more unique problem.”  The blacksmith watched with that same impassive expression as the length of chain was revealed, along with Otabek’s cuff and Yuri’s more delicate bracelet.  He studied the chain, the locks, and the pair of them.  Minutes ticked by.

 

“I’d think you were escaped criminals, but for the quality of this metal and length of the chain.”

 

“We aren’t criminals,” Yuri objected, insulted.  Otabek looked between them, then thought fast.

 

“The embarrassing truth is that we were engaging in some rather unique bedsport when we were set upon by brigands.  We managed to escape, but now find ourselves far from home with nothing to our names and of course, the key to this is tucked safely away at our bedside.”  His face colored, as did Yuri’s, which only added credence to the story.  “The chain can only be broken in forge-fire, and is very valuable.  You, of course, are welcome to keep it in exchange for your assistance.”

 

The smith looked down at the chain, then back to them one last time.  “Name’s Merick,” he said, holding out his hand.  Otabed smiled, extending his own and shaking.

 

“Otabek.  And this is-” he froze for a moment, then caught himself.  “This is Yura.  My husband.”

 

Yuri’s jaw almost dropped in shock.  Otabek stepped on his foot.  Yuri politely held out his hand for the smith to shake.  When they were done, Merick pointed back at Otabek.

 

“Anyone ever told you that you have smith’s hands?”

 

Otabek cracked his knuckles.  “Actually…”

 

***

 

Twenty minutes later, Merick had freed them from the chain.  The heat from the forge had been intense, but Yuri barely noticed it after Otabek wrapped his hands over Yuri’s hand and arm to protect it from sparks.  A few sprayed out each time Merick brought the hammer down on the metal.  They sizzled and winked out on Otabek’s skin.  He didn’t even seem to feel them.  Yuri thought he felt each one for the both of them.

 

Over the course of a conversation in which Yuri barely understood half the gargin, Otabek explained that he was a blacksmith himself, and asked if he could help around the shop for a few days to make enough coin to see them home.  Merick promised nothing but the opportunity to try at first, but once he saw Otabek’s skill at the forge, he gave them a place to stay in his barn loft and offered half the profits of whatever Otabek made in the days he worked.  To Yuri it didn’t seem like a very fair deal - Merick was getting free work from Otabek - but he was reminded sharply by Otabek that they were lucky to get anything at all.

 

Otabek went to work eagerly and left Yuri to use the little money they were now free to spend on clothes.  He got a pair of breeches and a shirt for himself, and the same for Otabek in what looked like the right size.  His next stop was at the cobbler for boots.  Otabek had insisted that the ones he wore fit well enough, but Yuri needed something more than the makeshift sandals, as wonderful as they had been for their intended function.

 

It turned out that the cobbler was also the part time apothecary, and Yuri left with a freshly stitched pair of boots half a size too big for him to accommodate the fresh bandages she’d applied to his feet.  There was also a salve he had been told very firmly to apply twice away to chase away the infection that had been setting in, despite Yuri’s fairytale hope against it.

 

Feeling more refreshed and  _ human _ than he had in days, Yuri returned to the smithy with his packages in tow. Merick greeted him at the door and told him Otabek was in the back, still at the forge.  He gestured Yuri to go through and give his  _ husband _ his new clothes.  

 

Yuri paused in the doorway and watched Otabek work.  Even with the ill fitting clothing and smock covering him, it was easy to see just how suited Otabek was to this work.  His body moved in a smooth rhythm, muscles flexing and releasing as he brought the hammer down.  His skin shone with sweat in the glow of the forge, and Yuri found himself following a bead of it running from Otabek’s hairline down his jaw, and dripping lower still to his collarbone.

 

Otabek dropped the piece he had been working on into the water barrel and steam filled the room, breaking Yuri from his reverie.  He shook his head to clear it, fighting down a confusing flush of arousal.  To fend it off, he focused on the question that plagued him again - why had Otabek given up this life?

 

***

 

They ate dinner with Merick that night, Otabek freshly bathed and dressed in his new clothes, Yuri at his side as the doting husband.  They played their part well enough that Merick only gave them one blanket to take to the loft with them.  Part of Yuri wanted to be bothered by the meager accommodations, but it was still far better than a few branches to keep rain off their heads and pine needles as their bed.  A blanket and an actual roof would be a welcome change, even if it was a shared one.

 

“I think another day of work should make us enough for a horse.  Merick is skilled, but his craft is very specific, and the people here are willing to pay more for a wider range of options.”

 

“Perhaps I should not admit to it, but I was surprised at your own skill.  You said that you had apprenticed as a smith.  The work I saw did not look like that of one still learning.”

 

Otabek flushed, looking away.  “I apprenticed for a long time.  Long enough to perfect the craft.”

 

They climbed into the loft, and Otabek laid the blanket out.  Yuri removed his new boots and loosed his breeches, watching from the corner of his eye as Otabek did the same.  They met on the blanket still clothed because there was a chill in the air, even as loathe as they were to sleep in fresh clothes.  Still, it somehow felt more intimate than the times they had slept half dressed beneath the stars.

 

Yuri laid on his side, facing Otabek, studying him.  Not asking the questions he most wanted to know the answers to.

 

“Unique bedsport?” he finally ventured.  Otabek choked on a laugh.

 

“Could  _ you _ think of a better explanation?”

 

“I am simply wondering how in the world you came up with such a thing.”  Yuri let the darkness cover his smile but didn’t try to keep it from his voice.

 

“Technically, it was not that much of a stretch of the truth.”

 

Yuri snorted.  “Somehow I doubt that is the whole story.”

 

“I may have known a girl once, who liked a bit of extra spice in her bedplay.”

 

“Chains, Otabek?  Really?”  Yuri could not picture it, upstanding Otabek binding his partner in chains.

 

“It was  _ ropes _ .  The chains were only in this fabricated story, I assure you.”

 

“Uh-huh.  And I thought you also said that you were no actor.  I have to say I disagree,  _ husband _ .”

 

“Well,  _ Yura _ , I could have told him that you were a prostitute I had collected for the night, but I didn’t think you would be very happy with your subsequent treatment.”

 

“A prostitute?   _ Me _ ?”  Yuri gasped in mock indignation.

 

“Really, though, no one would believe it was the other way around by the look of  _ me _ .”

 

Yuri frowned.  “That’s not the first time you’ve made some disparaging remark about your appearance.”  He pushed up to his elbow, trying to see Otabek’s face in the darkness.  “Do you truly think your looks are so lacking?”

 

Otabek hummed noncommittally in reply.  Yuri waited, hoping his silence would prompt Otabek to go on.  Eventually, he huffed and Yuri could imagine him running his hand through his hair in agitation.  “I do not think myself ugly.  I’ve had partners enough who even thought me handsome.  But I do not delude myself that I am delicate and fine in form as traditional beauties are.”

 

“I picked you  _ because _ of your strength and stature.”

 

“Yes,” Otabek scoffed, “because you wanted the thrill of dominating someone larger than you.  Not because you actually found me attractive.”

 

“I’ll not deny that the challenge was a large part of your appeal, in the beginning.  I thought- I felt… well that doesn’t matter now.  The point is that would not have been enough to prompt me to take you, if that had been all.  But that was not all.  I told you; you appealed to me.  None before you had.”  Yuri’s cheeks burned with embarrassment at the admission.  Worse, was the fact that his attraction to Otabek had only grown.  Seeing all that strength, tempered not by submission but by gentleness and kindness, had woken something deep in Yuri that he hadn’t known he’d longed for.  Yes, Otabek had been handsome from the first, but now, having come to know the man himself, Yuri found that his desire for Otabek had shifted from a fleeting fancy to something much more intense.

 

“I… I’m flattered.” 

 

“Don’t be.  It doesn’t matter.  I have been told more than once that I am attractive by traditional standards, and that beauty has not made me a better person or even-  I mean, I’ve never even-”

 

“Innocence is not a thing to be ashamed of,” Otabek said softly.

 

“I am eighteen years old and a prince!  I should have experienced sex long before now.”

 

“You said you’d had offers.  If it matters so much to you, why did you not accept one?  Even if they were not your ideal partner, if all you wanted was sex, why not take one to your bed for the night?”

 

“I… I don’t know.  I did not want-” Yuri broke off, not at all sure  _ what _ he wanted.

 

“Perhaps,” Otabek ventured, “what you are looking for is not just sex, but something more.” 

 

Yuri laid back again, thinking.  Maybe Otabek was right.  Maybe he hadn’t taken a lover before because sex for its own sake did not appeal to him.  Maybe all along he had been looking for a connection with someone, and trying to take Otabek had been a last, desperate attempt to lose his virginity because he thought he  _ should _ .

 

Perhaps the greatest irony was that Yuri might have found what he had wanted all along with Otabek, but it had taken being kidnapped and stranded for those feelings to grow.  He took in a shaky breath, thinking about Otabek’s feelings on sex, and the things that had most appealed to Yuri, and wondering if they might find some way to meet in the middle.  

 

“Kiss me,” he whispered, barely keeping his voice from shaking.  There was a beat of silence, then Otabek drew in a sharp breath.

 

“Is that a command?” The words were tight with anger and hurt.  Yuri flinched, appalled.

 

“What?  No!  I thought-  Can we not just-”

 

“I made my feelings on bending over for you clear, and you did the same.  I told you that I was not your slave out here, to fulfill your slightest whim.”

 

Yuri drew back, shocked at Otabek’s anger and upset at the direction his thoughts had taken.  Was that still how Otabek saw him?  Nothing more than the selfish prince he’d been that first night, thinking of no one but himself?  Was there no hope that, even with Otabek’s forgiveness, he could ever be anything more?

 

“It was  _ not _ an order,” Yuri said stiffly, holding back hurt.  “I know how you feel about sex and I would not have tried to force you into something you do not want.  Thank you for making it so plain that you also do not want  _ me _ , no matter the circumstances.”  He rose quickly, thinking only of fleeing before Otabek realized just how deeply his words had pricked.  

 

“Yura!”  Otabek’s call followed him into the cool night air, and he shivered.


	7. Chapter 7

Otabek threw his arm across his eyes, vacillating between anger at Yuri and anger at himself.

 

He knew that his temper had always been a fault.  Otabek was a gentle man at heart, but his anger was quick to rouse.  It was possible - he  _ wanted _ to believe - now that the initial spark of temper had passed, that Yuri had not meant his words to come out the way they had.

 

There was no doubt that things between them had changed drastically the last few days.  Yuri… it was as though he had been the worst version of himself, trapped in layers of thoughtlessness and snobbery that had been wrapping every more tightly around him from the moment of his birth.  That first night with Otabek, something had put a crack in that veneer, and now it seemed all those failings that he hadn’t even acknowledged were falling away.  As if he was becoming the man he was meant to be, now that he had the chance to prove himself.

 

Otabek wanted to believe that those changes were permanent.  That Yuri would not revert to that spoiled brat he had been as soon as they reached the palace once more.  Still, Otabek had to balance real world experience with his optimism, and he knew that such drastic changes  would be difficult to maintain when life around him resumed its normal rhythm.

 

He would have to have been blind not to see that  _ something _ had been blossoming between them these past few days.  It was a kind of flirtation, a tension in the air between them, both softening towards the other a little more and more still.  Otabek wouldn’t try and deny that he was attracted to the prince.  From the very beginning, Yuri would have been someone to turn Otabek’s head just by his looks alone.  It had been his personality and his position that had made Otabek dislike him.  Now that they were not acting as master and slave, and Otabek had come to see what lay beneath the disdainful surface of the prince…  Of course Otabek wanted him.  He was helpless not to.

 

But that desire did not change the reality of their situation.  Otabek was not a submissive partner in bed, not willingly.  He had tried it before, and it was not to his liking.  After what he had gone through with the training, he doubted he would ever be able to take pleasure out of it.

 

And Yuri - Yuri seemed to see being in the passive role as some sort of degradation.  As though it would make him less of a man, or that it was something to be ashamed of.  That thinking would keep him from being able to enjoy being the receiving partner in sex, even if it was something he might find pleasurable.  It meant that penetrative sex was completely out of the question for them.

 

There were other kinds of sex, yes, and Otabek would have happily explored them with Yuri instead, but one other little thing stood in the way.  Yuri was the  _ prince _ .   Otabek was a slave in the palace.  Yuri was his master.

 

Otabek had no idea what would happen when they returned  to the capitol.  He was beginning to believe that Yuri would not try to keep him as a pleasure slave.  That perhaps he would find a different position for Otabek, one more suitable.  That they might even remain friends, in so much as a slave can be friends with the prince.  But even if that was what happened, it was foolish to try to begin a sexual relationship now.  It could lead nowhere.  They might enjoy the pleasures of one another’s bodies once or twice, but they had no chance of a future, and Otabek knew that what Yuri wanted was not a meaningless sexual encounter.

 

Despite the hopelessness of anything real between them, Otabek knew that he needed to find Yuri and apologize.  Yuri’s breathless request had been just that: a request.  It hadn’t been an order, from master to slave.  It had been a plea in the dark between two young men caught in each other’s thrall.

 

Otabek was ashamed at the conclusion he’d drawn, and how quickly he’d taken his anger out on Yuri.  Still, he knew it would take time for him to stop fearing the worst after everything that had happened.  He just needed to find Yuri, apologize, and explain.  They could talk, clear up the misunderstandings between them.  Otabek could tell him the truth, that he  _ did _ want Yuri, but how foolish it would be for either of them to act on it.

 

“Yura!”  He looked around the outskirts of the barn, grateful for the glow of moonlight to see by.  Yuri was not there, but he had left a clear path of trampled grass into the woods.  Otabek followed it, thinking of the best way to assure Yuri that the rejection had been of the conclusion he’d jumped to, and not of Yuri himself.

 

“Yura!”  It was harder to see where he’d gone in the woods, where the light had to filter through the trees and it was not as easy to see footsteps in the undergrowth.  He wished Yuri would answer him, or at least make some noise that would-

 

Otabek heard a hiccough to his left and turned.  A little way off the path he spotted Yuri, crouched with his back to a tree and his head in his hands.  His shoulders were shaking, his breaths shuddering and bitten off as though he was struggling not to cry.

 

All the things Otabek had planned to say, the rationalizations, the explanations, anything logical at all fled his mind.  In that moment, Yuri was not the prince, spoiled and quick to inflict his authority upon others.  He was not the man that he might yet become, unfulfilled potential for good.  He was just as he was.  A young man, confused by his desires, hurt by rejection, alone and terribly, terribly fragile.  

 

To Otabek, he had never been more beautiful.

 

Otabek admired strength, and despite his small stature Otabek knew Yuri  _ was _ strong. But strength for its own sake, or used against others, did not appeal to him. That first night in the palace, it had been the vulnerability of Yuri’s inexperience that had let Otabek use his mouth on Yuri with any semblance of willingness.  As they’d travelled, seeing Yuri grapple with real, human emotions, fear and hope and sorrow and joy, had drawn Otabek to him.  Had opened up Otabek’s eyes to Yuri as someone he could desire.  Now, seeing him alone in the woods, coping with loss and rejection, he had never seemed so  _ real _ .  All the feelings Otabek had been carefully controlling slammed into him, unavoidable and fierce.

 

By the time Yuri heard him and looked up, Otabek was already at his side, cradling his face in his hands, warm, calloused fingers wiping away the few stray tears that had fallen despite his best efforts to hold them back.

 

“Yura.”  It was whispered this time, sweetly, reverently.  Yuri tried to say Otabek’s name back, but his voice cracked, and it came out sounding like  _ Beka _ .  Otabek pulled him close, wrapping his arms around Yuri’s still trembling shoulders. 

 

“I’m sorry.  I should not have reacted the way I did.  You didn’t mean it that way, and I knew that.  Truly I did.  I just snapped before I had thought, and I didn’t mean-”  Otabek pulled back enough to look down at Yuri’s face, his heart breaking when another tear slipped free and dropped down his cheek.  Without considering the ramifications, without thinking at all, Otabek lowered his head and kissed away the tear.  His lips lingered on the taste of saltwater. Instead of pulling away, they ghosted across to Yuri’s other cheek, to his forehead, to the corner of his mouth.

 

“You don’t want me,” Yuri whispered, his breath warming Otabek’s cheek, the movement of his lips felt along Otabek’s own.

 

Otabek’s hand slid into Yuri’s hair, gripping but not pulling.  He shifted closer, close enough for Yuri to feel the effect that being so near to Yuri’s body had on Otabek’s own.

 

“I want you the way the way the ocean wants the moon.  I am drawn to your glow, pulled in helplessly.  I want you with a reckless abandon that makes me forget all logic.  I want you so badly that my lips ache for just a  _ taste _ of you.”  There was a pause, the slightest chance for Yuri to pull back, or push Otabek away.  He did neither.  “I want you too desperately to resist.”  Otabek stopped trying to.  He pressed their lips together, sinking into the softness of Yuri’s inexperience, savoring the way his tongue moved with uncertainty and eagerness.

 

It was like slipping into a dream where time stretched and then flowed, every little thing becoming clear and simple.  There was nothing but the two of them, wrapped up in each other, drinking each other in as though they had been dying of thirst.

 

Yuri’s hand clutched at Otabek’s back, then slipped between them to press against Otabek’s erection.  The pressure was bliss, Yuri’s touch was electric. A moment later, he was trying to untie Otabek’s laces, his fingers fumbling impatiently until they loosed and he could slip his hand inside.

 

Otabek hissed at the contact, pleasure streaking up his spine.  “ _ Yura _ .”  He pressed closer, his hips bucking before he could think clearly enough to do the same to Yuri.  He pulled the laces free and tugged fabric aside, baring Yuri’s cock to the night air.  Yuri shivered, but from pleasure or the chill, Otabek wasn’t sure.  He stroked his fingers along the hot length, gripping and caressing in turns.

 

They might have finished just like that, hands on each other’s cocks, but then Yuri thrust forward and their erections pressed together with only a single layer of cloth between them.  Otabek wanted more.  He shoved his own breeches further down and lifted Yuri, urging his legs around Otabek’s waist.  Once Yuri’s heels locked behind Otabek’s back, their cocks were flush, jerking against each other, a bead of precum from Otabek’s tip sliding down to slick Yuri’s shaft.

 

Yuri’s head lolled back and he moaned, grinding them together to increase the friction.  Otabek gripped both of their cocks in his fist and stroked.  It was bliss, pure and simple.  Wave after wave of pleasure rose up in Otabek, pushing him closer to the brink than he thought was possible in such a short amount of time.  Yuri was trembling in his arms, begging for more, straining towards release, and it was more than Otabek could bear.  Otabek bucked his hips hard and the bounce of Yuri’s ass against his thighs, the pressure of their cocks together, the heat between them, the sound of his name on Yuri’s lips, was his undoing.  He let his teeth sink into Yuri’s shoulder as his orgasm washed through him.  The feel of Yuri’s come painting his hand made him growl in satisfaction.

 

Aftershocks continued to hit them, making them groan and cling closer together.

 

Finally, it was the bite of the night wind that brought them back to their senses.  Yuri shivered.  Otabek unwrapped his hand from their cocks and wiped the rapidly cooling release on the grass.  “We should get back,” he said, pressing a kiss against Yuri’s shoulder over the bite mark he’d left there.

 

“Maybe a better idea would have been to do this in the loft, instead of out here where anyone could see us.”

 

Otabek grinned crookedly and shrugged.  “Merick already thinks we’re perverse.  I doubt our reputations would be harmed by a little semi-public sex.”

 

“True.  Yura the blacksmith’s husband doesn’t have much need for decorum.”

 

“Nor, it would seem, does Beka the blacksmith.”  

 

Yuri tugged on a hank of Otabek’s hair.  “Don’t tease me.”

 

“What, I thought it was cute.”  Otabek nuzzled Yuri’s ear, dropping another kiss on his skin.  When Yuri spoke again, Otabek could hear the smile in his tone.

 

“I suppose it’s only fair that you get a nickname since I got one.”

 

“Of course.”  Another kiss.  This time, Otabek let his teeth graze behind it.  Yuri squirmed in his lap and made a sound not quite a whine.

 

“I thought you said we should get back?”

 

“Mmhm.”  His tongue flicked against Yuri’s ear lobe.  Yuri moaned and let his head tip back.

 

“If my dick freezes off, I’m blaming you,” he panted, body arching to Otabek’s touch.  Otabek grumbled, but pulled back.

 

“Now that is far too great a risk to take.  Back to the loft with you.”  He managed to stand and pull Yuri with him, releasing Yuri slowly, as if he was reluctant to do so.  It made Yuri feel warm despite the chill.

 

They righted their plackets and walked back to the barn, hands brushing with every step.  When they fell back on the blanket, they were just as close.

 

“I had so many things I was going to say,” Otabek whispered.

 

“Oh?”

 

“I was going to apologize for losing my temper like that, and explain why I was so on edge, tell you all the reasons that it would be foolish to act on our desires.”

 

“I’m sure there are a dozen of them.”

 

“There are.”

 

Yuri reached across the scant distance between them and slipped his arm around Otabek’s waist.  “I don’t care.”  Otabek pulled him closer, until their chests were pressed tightly together.  He kissed the top of Yuri’s head, then rested his cheek against it.

 

“This is dangerous.”

 

“It’s only dangerous for Prince Yuri and Otabek.  For Yura and Beka, there’s no danger at all.”

 

Otabek felt himself smile, despite knowing that pretending to be other people would not protect their hearts.  “Then, I suppose we will have to make the most of their short lives.”


	8. Chapter 8

While Otabek worked in the shop the next day, Yuri went around the little town looking for a horse to buy.  Horses were something Yuri knew a fair bit about, not just riding but also breeding and buying.  He felt like he could finally contribute something to their venture, and so took his time carefully choosing the one they would buy.

 

After searching the whole village over, Yuri selected a young stallion that came from hearty stock and was strong enough to carry them both.  He spent an absurdly long time haggling the price down.  By the time he was done, he was positive that he’d made the best choice and gotten the best price possible.  He was grinning when he made his way back to the smithy.

 

Otabek kissed him full on the mouth and practically glowed with pride at Yuri’s accomplishment.  Yuri felt like he’d created the horse from scratch rather than simply arranging to buy it.  He melted against Otabek’s side and blushed when Merick grumbled about  _ lovey-dovey couples _ .  For a moment, his mind turned to his brother and the other Yuuri, and he thought haughtily that he and Beka were a far cuter couple.  It was several minutes later before he realized that he and Otabek were not actually a couple at all.

 

***

 

“I was thinking,” Yuri said as they lay in the loft that evening, “it might be a good idea to stay one more day.”

 

“Oh?”  Otabek’s fingers paused, then resumed tracing circles across Yuri’s back.

 

“Wouldn’t it be a good idea to have a little more money?  For supplies and things?  A second canteen, more food, maybe even a bedroll and a cook pot.  It’ll be another few days before we reach the capitol, even on horseback.”

 

If they rode hard, they could possibly make it to the palace in a day and a half, but he could hear the pleading in Yuri’s voice.  “I suppose if you’re sick of my roasted fish, we could do with a little more equipment.”

 

“I am.  Sick of it.  I despise roasted fish.  Couldn’t stand another bite.”

 

“In that case, I don’t see that we have much choice.  Another half day’s work should be enough to buy us what we need.”

 

“But we wouldn’t want to set off until morning the day after, so that we had a full day’s light to travel…”

 

“Of course.”

 

A silence, the like of which seemed to be common between them, descended.  Otabek could practically feel Yuri working up to saying something.

 

“You know,” he said as if he had only just realized, “that would leave us time.  To do- other things.”

 

“Like explore the town or visit the tavern?”  Otabek laughed when Yuri growled at him.

 

“I’ve already explored the town and I’m not going to the tavern.”

 

“What did you have in mind, then?”

 

“...you’re a cruel man if you plan to make me spell it out.”

 

“Oh, but I do plan to make you spell it out.  I don’t want there to be even the slightest chance of a misunderstanding.  I want to hear you tell me, in detail, every single thing you want me to do to you.  Everything you want to do to me.”  He slid his hands under Yuri’s shirt, fingers skating up his ribs.  “How gentle.”  He brushed against one nipple, savoring Yuri’s gasp of pleasure.  “How rough.”  He pinched, and the flesh peaked between his fingers.  “How fast.”  His other hand slid down low on Yuri’s belly, teasing at the waist of his breeches.  “How much.”  The pulled the tie loose, then stopped.  Yuri keened and bucked his hips.  “Tell me,” Otabek breathed against his lips, refusing to touch any lower until Yuri said the words.

 

“T-touch me.”

 

“Where?”

 

“ _ Everywhere!” _

 

“Be specific,” Otabek insisted.

 

“My cock.  Grab my cock.”

 

Otabek pulled Yuri’s breeches out of the way and wrapped his fingers around Yuri’s length.  “And now?”

 

“ _ Fuck _ -”

 

“I don’t believe that’s on the agenda, unless you’ve changed your mind about one very important issue.”

 

“You make me rethink everything,” Yuri admitted shakily.  Otabek froze, the idea that Yuri might actually consider letting Otabek fuck him leaving him aroused beyond his ability to reason.  Yuri squirmed beneath him, and Otabek fought to regain his senses.  He swallowed thickly.  

 

“Let’s start with what you’re thinking about right now.  What do you want?”

 

“Y-your mouth.  Can I have your mouth?”

 

Otabek paused, making himself think about the request.  He hadn’t hated sucking Yuri’s cock the first time, no, but it had not been done of his own volition, either.  He didn’t want anything that went on between them now to even remotely resemble that night.  Perhaps, if Yuri had worded it differently, or if Otabek was not so drunk with desire for him, the idea might have made him uncomfortable.  Instead, all he could think about was taking his time getting to know what Yuri’s cock tasted like. How it felt under his tongue.

 

In answer, he began kissing his way down Yuri’s body.

 

“Wait-”  Yuri stopped him, clutching at his shoulders.  Otabek looked up, his brow furrowed with concern.

 

“I want to do you, first.  Please.”  His face was bright red and he bit his lip, as if he expected Otabek to laugh at him or turn him down.

 

“Yura.”  Otabek kissed his way back up to Yuri’s lips, then pressed a lingering one against his forehead.  “I would like nothing more.”

 

Yuri grinned, clearly relieved.  With a laugh, he rolled them until he was pressing Otabek back down on the blanket.  His smile turned mischievous as he began mimicking Otabek’s movements, trailing kisses down Otabek’s chest and stomach.  When he reached his groin he paused, raising up enough for Otabek to strip off his breeches.

 

Otabek’s cock was hard and straining, a bead of moisture welling up and making the piercing gleam wetly.  Yuri studied it.  He’d never seen another cock this close.  Otabek’s was the same as his own in a basic way, of course, but it was also so different.  Otabek was bigger - which wasn’t surprising considering the size of the rest of him.  His cock had more of a curve to it than Yuri’s did, and the head was more flared.  The color, too, was different.  Where Yuri was pale, Otabek’s skin seemed to be darker all over.

 

It felt foreign in his hand, a thick, heavy thing eager for attention.  Yuri wetted his lips quickly, wondering where to start.  He did not want to think back to that first night they spent together, but it was his only basis for comparison.  He licked a stripe up the length of it.  

 

Otabek groaned and shuddered.  Satisfied, Yuri went on.  He tasted the bead of fluid at the tip and was pleasantly surprised when he found it was salty, but not bitter.   He rolled his tongue around the piercing gently.  Otabek’s hands fisted against the blanket.  Yuri stopped.

 

“Is that- bad?”

 

“No.  No, it’s-” Otabek relaxed one hand and ran it over his face.  “It’s good.  Quite- very- good.”  

 

Relieved, Yuri lowered his head again.  He rolled his tongue around the piercing once more, relishing Otabek’s moan, then took the entire tip in his mouth.  A soft suck brought a curse to Otabek’s lips.  A longer, firmer one had him panting for breath, the muscles of his stomach clenching.  Yuri tried to take more of Otabek into his mouth and only managed a quarter of it before he had to pull off, coughing and gagging.

 

“Hey, not so much.  Don’t choke yourself.”  Otabek brushed Yuri’s hair out of his eyes and tucked it behind his ear, smiling at him gently.  Yuri was about to complain that Otabek had been able to take far more of Yuri’s cock, when he remembered how Otabek had learned to do so.  He barely suppressed his grimace.  So much that they daren’t speak about.  So much they couldn’t say.  Instead, he nodded and tried again.

 

This time he used his hand to stroke the length of Otabek’s cock he couldn’t fit in his mouth.  When he moved them both in unison, it left Otabek incoherent with pleasure.  Yuri continued to suck him eagerly, taking immense satisfaction in every moan, every hitched breath, every jerk of his hips.

 

“Fuck, Yura-”  Otabek raised his hand shakily, slipping it into Yuri’s hair.  “Yuri, I’m-” he held Yuri back until he could get the words out.  “You’re going to make me come.”

 

“That’s the idea,” Yuri quipped, taking Otabek into his mouth once more.  Otabek groaned as if in defeat and gave into the pleasure.  His cock pulsed, and thick, warm fluid spurted into Yuri’s mouth.  Yuri tried to swallow, then gagged slightly when another shot hit the back of his throat.  He pulled back to catch his breath, still stroking Otabek with his hand. 

 

As Otabek caught his breath, Yuri wiped errant droplets of come from his face.  It hadn’t had the most pleasant taste in the world, no, but it hadn’t been bad, either.  Next time, Yuri would be more careful about swallowing, and be able to keep his mouth on Otabek’s cock through his entire orgasm. 

 

He was still thinking about other ways he could improve when Otabek pulled him up and kissed him.  Yuri knew Otabek could taste himself on Yuri’s tongue, and the thought made his cock jump with arousal.  “That was good, right?  It was, wasn’t it,” he demanded when he pulled back.  His arrogance and inexperience were battling each other, waiting to hear Otabek’s reaction.

 

“Good?”  Otabek laughed.  “Yura,  _ good _ is not the word I would use.  Great would be a better one.  Or amazing.  Wonderful.  Fantasti-”

 

“Okay, okay, I get it.  I was good.”  He rested his head against Otabek’s chest and smiled, congratulating himself.  Not that he’d been worried. Well.  Perhaps a little worried.  

 

“I think it’s time you let me return the favor,” Otabek said as he shifted, rolling Yuri to his back.  In quick movements, he stripped Yuri naked and had him spread out like a feast to be dined upon.  Then, with a wicked smile, he began to do just that.  He kissed and sucked Yuri’s nipples until they were peaked and flushed, bit softly on the inside of Yuri’s thighs, licked the dip of his hips.  By the time his mouth descended on Yuri’s cock, Yuri thought he would come right then and there.  He bit his tongue near to drawing blood just to keep from losing control.  From bucking his hips up to Otabek’s welcoming mouth and spilling down his throat that very moment.

 

Yuri wanted to savor the experience, to enjoy it slowly and burn the memory of it into his mind.  Instead he felt as though he could barely maintain thought.  It was as good as it had been that first time, startlingly intense, and also so much better.  Because it was  _ Otabek _ giving him this.  Not some nameless slave obeying a command.  Otabek, the man who had saved his life, the man who had cared for him, had protected him, had taught him so much and was helping him grow into so much more.  It was  _ Otabek _ .

 

Yuri pushed himself up on his elbows so he could watch Otabek’s head rise and lower steadily, watch his cock disappearing between Otabek’s lips.  It was perfect and erotic and more than Yuri could handle.  Yuri tried to give Otabek the same warning that he had, but all he managed was a broken,  _ Beka- _ and then he was coming hotly.

 

Otabek swallowed and then moved back up the blanket, pulling Yuri’s limp body into his arms.  “Shall I ask if that was  _ good _ ?” he asked huskily.  Yuri moaned low, twisting a little and pressing closer still to Otabek’s chest.

 

“Would it be in terribly bad taste if I said, ‘your performance was adequate?’”

 

Otabek stilled for a moment, then let out a short laugh and bit Yuri’s shoulder just hard enough to sting.  “Brat.”  He kissed the spot to soothe the tiny hurt.  “My ego would be pricked had you not come almost as quickly as you had that night, and twice as hard.” 

 

“Alright, it was more than adequate.  It was great.  Amazing.  Wonderf-”

 

Otabek cut him off with a kiss.

 

***

 

Yuri woke in the morning with something thick and hot pressed against his ass.  If the bulk behind him and sound of soft breathing was any indication, it was safe to assume that Otabek was wrapped around him, which would mean that the thick, hot thing, was Otabek’s cock.

 

Yuri pressed back against it gently, testing the waters.  Otabek murmured softly in his sleep, his arms tightening around Yuri.  It felt… strange, having something pressed back there.  And from that angle, it felt even bigger.  As if the thing wasn’t intimidating enough.  Were it not for the fact that he’d seen pleasure slaves his own size paired off with men of similar stature to Otabek, he might think that it just wouldn’t  _ fit _ .  But somehow, it must.

 

In all Yuri’s life, sex had seemed problematic for one reason or another.  It was a troublesome thing that caught his brother’s interest when Yuri was a child and Victor on the verge of adulthood.  It had been a nuisance thrown in his face as men and women he did not know offered themselves to him in his adolescence.  By the time he had reached his maturity, he had lost any positive feelings on the matter.  Sex was a hurdle he needed to overcome.  It was something everyone did, and past time Yuri did it as well.  He wanted to get it over with, and do it on his terms.

 

He did not know, exactly, where the idea had come to him from that as a prince, he should not be the one to spread his legs.  Victor certainly hadn’t spoken to him about his own sex life, for all that he and his consort were disgustingly open in their dripping, squishy romance.  But it felt... unseemly, for a prince to be taking another man into himself.  So he had always told himself that, if it was going to be a man - and as he’d grown older, he had become more certain that it  _ would _ be a man - then Yuri would be the one doing the mounting.

 

It was possible, he knew, that he would find that he was like Otabek.  That he did not  _ like _ being the passive partner, and that would be that.  But… he could not know until he had tried it.

 

There was nothing inherently shameful about bending over for another man.  Yes, he had tied up his position in bed with his dignity as a prince, but he still knew that it was not a thing to be ashamed of.  And anyways, he was  _ not _ a prince, here.  He was Yura, Beka’s husband.  And the blacksmith’s husband did not have to fear that being submissive was not fitting for his position.

 

Yuri shifted forward just a bit, parted his legs, and then scooted back again.  He managed to catch the tip of Otabek’s cock and press the length of it between his legs.  After another few small adjustments, Otabek’s erection was snugly against the lower curve of Yuri’s ass, the head of it pressed to the smooth skin just behind Yuri’s testicles.

 

The firm press of it sent a zing of pleasure through Yuri.  He rocked his hips, adjusting to the feel of Otabek against him, the heat of him there.  It was not something Yuri would object to more of.  He knew there was no way he could get Otabek’s cock inside him like this, nor would it be a smart decision to try, but he still rocked his hips enough to wedge the head of Otabek’s cock against his hole.  It felt impossibly, frighteningly large.  The pressure, however, was almost pleasant.  And the precum leaking from Otabek let Yuri slide them close together, enough to make heat pool in his belly and his cock to ache.  Yuri pushed further until the stretch of it edged on painful, then eased away.  Otabek moaned.

 

So, then.  Perhaps being fucked was something he might want to try.


	9. Chapter 9

As Otabek worked his last morning at the forge, Yuri bought supplies.  There were several things that Otabek would have to buy himself since Yuri had no knowledge of them - how should he know anything about cooking pans? - but the rest Yuri could pick up on his own.  Between buying a second canteen and going in search of a bedroll, Yuri slipped into the apothecary.  She was pleased to see him again and to hear that his feet were almost completely healed, and was able to supply him with what he needed at a decent price and with a cheeky wink.

 

When Yuri finally bought the bedroll, it was only a single one.  Let Otabek make of that what he would.

 

He had managed to store his purchase, along with their other supplies, in the loft before Otabek met up with him for lunch.  After that, they bought their remaining supplies and brought the horse back to the barn so that he would be ready to load in the morning.

 

If Otabek noticed Yuri’s nervousness, he didn’t comment on it.  They shared a last meal with Merick, an early dinner, then retired before dark on the guise of making preparations for their journey - which they had already completed.

 

As soon as they were in the loft, Yuri practically threw himself at Otabek.  He clung to him, kissing him desperately, hands clutching fistfuls of his shirt.  At first Otabek seemed taken aback, but after a moment, he was kissing Yuri just as ardently.

 

Otabek might have taken his time moving from kissing to caressing to undressing, but Yuri would not let him.  He stripped off his own clothes and then set about removing Otabek’s with equal vigor.  In moments, they were both naked and sprawled on the blanket.  Otabek naturally settled between Yuri’s legs, as if he belonged there.  Yuri’s stomach clenched in trepidation and arousal.

 

Urged on by Yuri’s moans, Otabek reached between them and gripped their cocks together.  He began to stroke them, slow and firm.  Yuri let him take them both to the edge of mindless pleasure, then stopped him.

 

“Wait.”

 

“Yura?”  Otabek looked up from where he’d been watching the heads of their cocks disappear in his fist.

 

“I want- to do something else.”

 

Otabek’s lips quirked into a smile.  “I guess I’m not too full from dinner.”  He moved to slide down Yuri’s body, but Yuri held him still.

 

“Not that.  Not that I don’t want that.  I do.  But- not right now.  I want something different.  I want-”  Yuri stopped, hating the flush he could feel creeping up his neck.  He twisted slightly and felt around for the bottle that he’d hidden from view with the edge of the blanket.  Once he had it, he thrust it out to Otabek.  Otabek took it, then looked from the bottle to Yuri in shock.

 

“Yura, this is-”

 

“I know what it is,” Yuri interrupted, the blush spreading to the tips of his ears now.  “I’m the one who bought it!”

 

Otabek frowned, unconsciously wetting his lips.  “But I thought-”

 

“That was- before.  Things change.  People change.”

 

Silence fell around them, tense and stark.  When Otabek spoke again, it was slowly and clearly, as if trying to make sure Yuri believed him.  “We don’t have to do this.  I’ve been more than happy with what we’ve already done.  There’s no need to do something you aren’t comfortable with, and I wouldn’t ever push you to-”

 

“I  _ know _ that.  Just- just shut up and do it.”  Yuri scowled when Otabek made no move to fuck him.  “I want to try, alright?  Maybe I’ll hate it.  But maybe I won’t.  And I won’t know if I don’t give it a shot, and there isn’t-  You’re… you’re the only one I’d want this way.”

 

Whatever concern or resistence that Otabek had remaining left him with those words.  The look he gave Yuri was filled with unspeakable tenderness and a hunger like no other.

 

A moment later he pulled the cork from the bottle with his teeth and then moved down Yuri’s body until he could take his cock into his mouth.  Yuri arched and hissed at the sensation, his fingers sliding into Otabek’s hair.  “I  _ said _ -”

 

Yuri’s protest was abruptly cut off as one of Otabek’s fingers, slick with oil, pressed against his ass.  Yuri tensed, unsure what to expect.  Otabek suckled his cock intently, slowly making Yuri forget his nerves.  The slippery finger rubbed at him, massaging and teasing.  The pressure he used was enough to stimulate, but not enough to breach.  Soon, Yuri thought he was going to go mad if Otabek did not give him more.  He spread his legs wider in invitation and bucked his hips.

 

Otabek smirked around Yuri’s cock and obliged him.  Slowly, gently, he pushed inside.  Yuri’s breath caught, his body tensed again.  Otabek felt him clamp down vice tight and did not move, did not rush him.  All he did was continue sucking Yuri’s cock until, one heartbeat at a time, the pressure eased.  Only then did Otabek begin to move his hand in shallow thrusting motions.

 

Yuri moaned, throwing his arm across his eyes to hide.  It was not unpleasant.  It was intense and overwhelming and  _ incredible _ .  He felt possessed by Otabek, thoroughly owned as he was stroked inside and out.  And Otabek only had his finger inside of him.  Yuri couldn’t imagine how much more intense the feeling would be when it was replaced with his cock.

 

After a while one finger became two, and then three.  Carefully, thoroughly, Otabek stretched Yuri and practically doused him in the oil.  Soon the air was filled with soft squelching noises that made Yuri burn with embarrassment, but not enough to even consider asking Otabek to stop.  He felt as though he was drowning in sensation, that he had been so close to climax for so long that any little movement might set him off.

 

“Beka,” he panted, trying to stave off his orgasm as best he could.  “Beka,  _ now _ .  Fuck me.”  Otabek stilled, and for a moment, Yuri was afraid that he’d ruined everything by phrasing it like an order.  “Please,” he added in a desperate rush.  “Please fuck me.”

 

The look on Otabek’s face when he raised his head was not one of anger or upset.  It was pure, animalistic  _ need _ .  Yuri moaned helplessly at the sight.  Otabek slid his fingers out of Yuri and crawled up his body until he could press his hips into the cradle of Yuri’s thighs.  The head of Otabek’s cock nudged him, hot and insistent.

 

Otabek reached for the bottle he had set aside, and Yuri noticed with some satisfaction that his hand was not quite steady.  It trembled as he poured oil onto his cock and stroked himself to spread it. Yuri could feel each small movement as if they were his own.  Otabek’s hand did not still until he wedged the head of his cock against Yuri’s now slick and pliant entrance.  He leaned back down and caught Yuri’s lips in a bruising kiss.

 

When Yuri was kissing him back, rocking his hips and moaning in pleasure, Otabek began to push forward.

 

It was almost strange how at first, it hardly felt as though there was any stretch at all.  The tapered head of Otabek’s cock was smaller than his fingers together had been, and there was no friction at all as the oil eased the way.  It wasn’t until they reached the flared ridge that Yuri felt the first small pang of discomfort.  The smooth piercing rubbed just inside his rim, seeming to intensify the sensation of his body being worked open.  It felt hot, the burn of the stretch stealing his breath for a moment.  It wasn’t a sharp pain, no, but it was startlingly intense.

 

Yuri’s hands flew up to Otabek’s chest.  Otabek froze, giving Yuri time to adjust.  The moment passed, and pleasure overshadowed the ache.  Otabek dropped soft kisses against Yuri’s slack lips.  He began to rock his hips ever so slightly, tiny micro thrusts slipping his cock deeper into Yuri the smallest fraction at a time.

 

After Yuri had taken the widest part of Otabek’s cock and all that remained was to feed him the rest of his length, Otabek slipped his hand between them and began to stroke Yuri in time with his thrusts.  Yuri writhed beneath him, sweat slicked and trembling.  He looked beautiful and sinful, stretched to the limit around Otabek’s cock, taking more and more of his length and beginning to push back so that Otabek sank into him even quicker.

 

Finally, Yuri wrapped his legs around Otabek’s waist and squeezed, driving the rest of Otabek’s cock into him roughly.  They both cried out, pleasure pulsing through them, centered where they were locked together.

 

Otabek panted, fighting down the urge to pin Yuri’s hips to the blanket and fuck him hard and fast.  “Yura?”  He managed to gasp the name through clenched teeth.

 

_ “Yes,” _ Yuri moaned, making that single word sound like a plea.  Otabek was helpless to to anything but oblige him.  He pulled back and then sank into welcoming heat once more.  Yuri’s blunt nails scored down his back, spurring him on.  Otabek knew that neither of them would last.  Yuri was already coiled for release, and Otabek was not far behind him.  

 

Otabek angled his thrusts, trying to give Yuri even more pleasure and was fiercely satisfied when Yuri nearly howled with it.  He hit the same spot again and again.

 

“Otabek!”  Yuri’s back arched, his body clamping down on Otabek until it was impossible to even move.  Slick heat shot over Otabek’s hand and onto Yuri’s stomach.  The sight of it, the feel of Yuri clenching around him, the dazed, punch drunk look in Yuri’s eyes, was enough to make Otabek lose control.  He slammed into Yuri over and over until he spilled.  Each pulse brought a fresh wave of pleasure crashing over him, leaving him weak limbed and shaking.

 

He let his head drop down, his forehead pressed to Yuri’s.  Otabek’s harsh pants mixed with Yuri’s quick gasps.  They shared breath, still fused together as close as it was possible for two beings to be.  Otabek did not want to part.  He did not want the moment to end.  Even when his cock softened, he remained where he was, connected to the man he’d come to care for in such a short amount of time.

 

If he knew it would not leave Yuri sore in the morning, he would have slept like that.  Unfortunately, reality was not so forgiving, and they would be on the back of a horse for the majority of the next day.  With a sigh of regret, Otabek shifted back until his cock slipped free.  Yuri’s breath hitched at the sensation.

 

Otabek considered asking how the experience had been, but Yuri’s release, streaked all the way up to his chest, was evidence enough.  He fought the urge to say something foolish, like how much he wished this was the way things could always be.  

 

It was Yuri who broke the silence, his voice soft and low.  “You could stay.”  

 

At first, Otabek didn’t know what he meant.  Then it hit, and he pushed up to his elbow so that he could see Yuri’s face.  Yuri didn’t look at him, instead keeping his eyes focused on the beams above him.  “There’s enough demand for your craft.  You could become partners with Merick, make a comfortable living.  No one here knows who you are.”

 

_ No one here knows  _ what _ you are _ , was the unspoken truth.

 

Yuri was giving him an out.  A way for him to start his life over, as a free man with a way of earning a decent wage.  For one long moment, Otabek’s treacherous heart wanted him to say yes.  He could lead a simple life here, find a partner, perhaps even raise a family.  His own family was already lost to him, so what difference did it make if he lived out the rest of his days away from them?

 

All he would be leaving behind, all he would have to give up, was the fragile relationship he’d formed with Yuri and a complicated mess of decision that awaited them.  And was he really willing to trade the guarantee of freedom for an uncertain future?

 

But Otabek knew that he could not stay.  He could not live as a free man and yet never see his sisters again.  He could not leave the prince to make his way through a perilous mountain pass alone.  He could not go back on the bargain he’d made to ensure his loved ones’ security.

 

He was not a coward.  He would return to the capitol with Yuri.  And he would find out if the man he had come to know these last few days, the man he was proud of and had faith in, was really who Yuri was at heart.

 

He shook his head.  “I can’t.”

 

“It would be easier.”

 

“Easier yes.  But also less honorable.  The easy path is not often the  _ right _ one.” 

 

“But you could-”  Yuri stopped, seeing the set of Otabek’s jaw.  “Just… just think about it.  For tonight.  You owe that much to yourself.”

 

Otabek smiled softly, even knowing that his mind would not change.  If anything, Yuri’s words only solidified his decision.  The prince had offered him escape when it was of no benefit to himself.  It could not have been an easy thing to do, but Yuri thought it had been the right one.  A man who would do that was a man that Otabek could pledge his life to.  Was a man who made Otabek want to honor the pledge he’d already made.

 

Otabek pressed soft kisses to Yuri’s hair, his eyes, his lips, his neck.  He moved slow and unhurried, savoring the softness of him, tasting every inch of skin until they were both hard and straining once more.  Then he worshipped Yuri’s body with his own, bringing them both to bliss, and, finally, late in the night, letting them sink into undisturbed slumber.


	10. Chapter 10

In the soft light of dawn, Yuri packed up the supplies, very purposely leaving Otabek’s things aside.  He was both pleased and disappointed when, a few minutes later, Otabek wordlessly began packing his own things along with Yuri’s.

 

Yuri could not imagine what would make him decide to return to the palace.  The moment they stepped foot inside, Otabek would return to being Yuri’s pleasure slave.  Yuri could easily go back to who he’d been before all this madness began.  He could use Otabek any way he saw fit or cast him aside.  He could have Otabek punished for the times he’d insulted Yuri, for the liberties he’d taken.  There was no hope for Otabek that his life might be any better than it had been, except for his faith in Yuri and the changes that he had made.

 

It was humbling.  It was terrifying.

 

They said their goodbyes to Merick and thanked him for all he’d done, and by less than an hour after dawn, they were headed for the mountain pass with a crudely drawn map as their guide.

 

Yuri held the reins tightly, trying to focus on guiding the horse and not on the feel of Otabek’s arms wrapped around him, his chest against Yuri’s back. 

 

He could still feel a faint, lingering throb where Otabek had possessed him, and it would be easy for the memory of what they’d done together to rouse him to hardness if he wasn’t careful.  

 

His every apprehension about letting Otabek between his legs had been unfounded.  It had been more than pleasant.  It had been awe inspiring. It had been  _ enlightening _ .  Finally, Yuri understood why sex was so revered.  It had been a beautiful thing.  Otabek was a gentle, considerate lover, and his size - which had been understandably daunting - had only brought pleasure.

 

What was more, not only had Yuri liked being the receiving partner, but he had found it  _ powerful _ .  The single-minded focus with which Otabek had attended him, the look of reverence on Otabek’s face when they had been joined, the erotic sounds he had drawn from Otabek’s throat with every clench or shift, had been incredibly heady.  It was an unearthly kind of strength, to be able to make a man as powerful as Otabek go slack jawed with pleasure.

 

That revelation alone was enough to radically shift Yuri’s world view.

 

Their compatibility also made the option of a full, long-term sexual relationship between them possible.   Which, while wonderful, was also a complication Yuri did not know how to handle.  As if he was not already confused enough about what to do.

 

Yuri had thought himself in circles worrying about what he ought to do when they returned to the palace.  He wanted Otabek to be happy.  Not just because his views on slavery - pleasure slaves specifically - had changed so much, but because he  _ liked _ Otabek.  He respected him, admired him.  Otabek was a good man, and he deserved happiness, whether that meant staying in Yuri’s company or not.

 

Having come to know Otabek, it seemed that the obvious way to make Otabek happy would be to free him.  Otabek despised being a pleasure slave, and he missed his family.  However…  he had also made the decision to become a slave, and again the night before had chosen to remain in that life.  Yuri could not understand it.  Otabek’s strong will was a painful juxtaposition to the choice of slavery.

 

What if somehow, despite Otabek’s will, what he truly wanted was a life of slavery?

 

How could that be possible?

 

Yuri needed to find a solution before they reached the palace.  The thought of having to put Otabek back in slave chains if it was not what he really wanted haunted Yuri.  And the time in which Yuri had to come up with a solution was running short.  They stopped to rest more times than was necessary, and found a place to camp for the night while the sun was still up, but there was only so long they could reasonably stall for.  Sometime in the next few days, they would reach the palace.

 

As they went about setting up a small shelter and making a fire, Yuri wondered how best to broach the subject with Otabek.  The problem was that every time in the past when he had asked why Otabek had become a slave, he had been met with either silence, or a well worded non-answer.  Otabek guarded the secret of his decision closely, and as of yet, he had not let Yuri near it.

 

“Do you like horses?” he asked abruptly as Otabek prepared a small meal for them with the food they’d brought.  Otabek looked up from the bread he was cutting with his brows furrowed.

 

“Well enough, I guess.”

 

“You seem a decent enough rider, but you didn’t have much to say about buying Joker.”  Yuri gestured to the stallion grazing nearby.  Otabek shrugged.

 

“You were more knowledgeable on the subject than I.  There was no reason not to trust your judgement.”

 

“What about growing crops?” Yuri pressed.  

 

Otabek’s confusion mounted.  “What about them?”

 

“Is it something you’ve an interest in?”

 

“Not particularly.  Why do you ask?”

 

“It’s just-”  Yuri stopped, trying to choose his words carefully so that Otabek did not withdraw.  “There are many tasks you might have been set to, when you came to the palace.  Tending to the horses, gardening, working in the kitchens…  I’m wondering how you would have felt about being assigned one of those, if I hadn’t claimed you.”

 

“I’m sure I would have learned them quickly enough.  I haven’t any specific objection to any of those things.”

 

“But none of them are what you would have chosen for yourself, had you the chance.”

 

“Not necessarily.”

 

“What would you have chosen, then?”

 

Otabek lifted one shoulder.  “I suppose something close to smithing, though I know that the palace does not operate its own forge.  Perhaps something in the armoury, where my knowledge could be of some use.”

 

“It seems,” Yuri said as casually as he could, “that for someone so happy at the forge, staying in a smith would have been a more logical decision.”

 

Otabek stilled.  The fire crackled, the sound seeming overly loud now that their voices had fallen silent.  Cicadas began to hum in the distance.

 

“That… was not an option.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Yura-”  Otabek put down the food and ran his hand through his hair roughly.  “I know you cannot understand why I went to the palace.  But it is not as simple a matter as satiating your curiosity.  If it were only for my own sake, I would not hesitate.  I trust you, now.  I’m trusting you with my  _ life _ .  But it is not my life alone that might be affected.  My family… I cannot take the risk that any harm could befall them because of my failings.”

 

“I don’t understand-”

 

“I know.”  Otabek crossed to Yuri and cradled his face in his hands.  His thumbs feathered across Yuri’s cheekbones.  The look in his eyes was almost one of anguish.  “I’m sorry.  I want to.  I have almost told you the whole story a dozen times.  But my sisters…”  He shook his head, unwilling to say more.

 

“Alright.  I won’t ask again.”

 

Otabek looked immeasurably relieved and kissed Yuri in thanks.  They ate their meal in silence, Yuri even more confused than he had been before.  Did Otabek have an enemy that was somehow threatening the family, and Otabek had been coerced into becoming a slave?  If so, did he not realize that all he needed to do was point out the man and Yuri could have them arrested?  The only person that Yuri could not act against was his brother, and there was no way that Victor could be a danger to Otabek’s sisters.  Aside from that one exception, Yuri could  _ protect _ Otabek’s family.  Whatever the threat, he could make sure they were safe.  But Otabek had to know that already.  And he had said that he trusted Yuri with his life.

 

More than ever, Yuri was afraid of making the wrong decision.  He wanted to prove himself worthy of Otabek’s trust, he wanted to do the right thing, but how could he, when he did not know Otabek’s whole story?

 

Later, when they were naked on the bedroll, Yuri put himself on his hands and knees.  He let Otabek drive into him from behind and found respite in letting Otabek set the pace, control their joining absolutely.  He wanted to cede all thought and responsibility, even if only for an hour.  Otabek gave him relentless pleasure, plying Yuri’s body the way a master musician would an instrument.  Yuri let himself go, coming hard into Otabek’s hand and crying out with the force of it.  Otabek seemed like he was only a moment from following when he realized that Yuri’s erection hadn’t waned.  Instead of quickening his thrusts, Otabek slowed them, stalling his orgasm while he worked Yuri up towards another one.

 

He came twice more before his body was finally spent.  Otabek collapsed onto him, chest heaving as he caught his breath.  Yuri had just enough consciousness left to think of how much he liked the weight of Otabek atop him, before he slipped into sleep.

 

***

 

Yuri had been afraid that when they left the town behind them, they would be leaving Yura and Beka behind as well.

 

He was relieved when that did not prove to be the case.  The closeness that they had developed, the casual intimacy, did not abate.  They spent all the next day talking as they made their way through the narrow mountain pass.

 

Despite Otabek’s silence about his past and his family, he still opened up to Yuri.  Yuri learned that Otabek had learned to cook from his mother and had traveled with his father in his youth.  That he had an irrational fear of closed spaces and loved the sea.  That he could lift an anvil over his head with ease, but could barely touch his toes without bending his knees.

 

They were small truths, unimportant in the grand scheme of things, and yet they were pieces of who Otabek was, the building blocks of the man Yuri was coming to care for more with every moment.

 

Yuri, too, opened up.  He talked about the unnatural stillness in the palace after his parents had died, the oppressive silence that had seemed to settle around them like shackles.  And how one day, Victor had shattered it.  Overnight, he became the leader his country needed, spurring everything around him to action.  Which had made him an incredible king… but it had left him little time to be a brother.

 

He told Otabek about his crazy schemes to get his brother’s attention, and how they had often backfired.  How slowly, he had given up, and they had grown distant.  How Yuri’s sadness had turned to anger and bitterness.

 

Even though he suspected Otabek already knew, he talked to him about the ever-increasing pressure he’d felt about sex and how he had spurned every shallow offer he’d received until it felt as though his only option was to find a way to go through with it on his own terms.  And slowly, haltingly, he told Otabek about the regret he now felt for the way he had acted that night in the palace, for his actions to Otabek and his childish, callous words.

 

They ended the night in one another’s arms once more, the pleasure of it all the more intense for the unintended seed of romance growing between them.


	11. Chapter 11

The landscape became familiar to Otabek the following day.  He recognized various landmarks from his travels with his father.  He knew which direction led to a road, and which road would lead to the capitol.  It was half a day’s journey - likely less than that if they found a troupe of royal guards that were guaranteed to be out looking for the prince.

 

The feeling of disappointment in Otabek’s belly grew.  All it would take was one person to recognize Yuri.  One soldier to call him  _ Prince Yuri _ , and then the spell would be broken.  What was between them would be reduced to nothing but ownership and subjugation.  The prince and his slave.

 

Otabek believed that Yuri would not be the way he had before.  That he would treat Otabek with kindness and respect, no matter what else happened.  But their easy candor and open affection would be gone.  Otabek wasn’t ready to let it go.

 

“My ass hurts,” Yuri suddenly declared.

 

Otabek half choked, not sure if he should be concerned, aumsed, or just confused.  “It has seen frequent use this last week,” he managed to say.  Yuri elbowed him in the ribs.

 

“Have you always been so crude?”  His eyes were narrowed, but he was smirking.  Otabek sputtered.

 

“On the  _ horse _ !  I meant on the horse!  For riding!”

 

“Sure you did.”  He let Otabek squirm for another moment, then huffed.  “But all this  _ riding _ has left me sore.  Too sore to go on without a break.  And a bath.”

 

Otabek frowned; Yuri’s tone sounded much like it had the first day after they’d been kidnapped, demanding and petulant.  “I could ride ahead, try to find-”

 

“And leave me behind?  How dare you even suggest such a thing!”

 

“Well what do you-”

 

“We are just going to have to stop at that inn up ahead.  There should be enough coin left for one room and a bath.  It means another night out here with you, but that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”  He let out a dramatic sigh, and all of Otabek’s frustration evaporated.  A small smile tugged his lips.

 

“For so little money, I doubt we will be able to get a room with two beds.”

 

“Oh calamity.”  Yuri held his face immobile for another half second, then laughed.

 

***

 

Two hours later, Otabek was watching Yuri sink naked into the tar lined washtub filled with steaming water.  It must have been crude compared to what he was used to at the palace, but the look on his face was one of pure bliss.  He began to scrub himself with the harsh lye soap as if it was the finest perfumed oil in the land.

 

So, Otabek thought as he reclined in the chair and watched unabashedly, he was not the only one reluctant to end their time together.  That surprised him more than it perhaps should have, considering how slowly they had been travelling at Yuri’s behest.  But Otabek had thought that being so close to home, to the comforts of the palace, would have sped Yuri along this last leg of the journey.

 

Otabek tried not to think about what it meant that Yuri would rather spend the night in a tiny, rustic inn with Otabek than sleep in his own obscenely oversized bed. 

 

“There seems to be a spot on my back that I can’t reach,” Yuri called.

 

“Are you asking me to wash your back, Yura?”

 

“I’ll return the favor if you do.”

 

“Now that’s an offer I can’t refuse.”  He crossed to the tub and knelt down, starting to roll up his sleeves as he did.

 

“It would be smarter to take that off.  So that it doesn’t get wet.  From all the, uh… splashing.”  Yuri slapped the water a few times, sending droplets flying.  Otabek rolled his eyes, but obliged.  Once Otabek’s chest was bare, Yuri leaned forward, exposing the long, pristine line of his back to Otabek’s gaze.

 

Yuri truly was beautiful in every sense.  His skin was flawless, the curve of his spine smooth and graceful.  He was slim, but not androgynously so.  There was toned muscle on his ribs and stretched across his shoulders.  He was the epitome of masculine beauty; a marble statue of perfect proportion brought to life.  Even in the somewhat murky bath water, he was breathtaking.

 

Otabek slid his hands up Yuri’s back, pausing occasionally to wash away dirt that wasn’t there.  When he reached Yuri’s shoulders, he let his thumbs sink into the taut muscle there and rubbed.  Yuri moaned loudly.  Otabek repeated the movement until Yuri had melted back against the side of the tub, lax and content.

 

“I had every intention,” he said when Otabek finally pulled his hands away, “of getting out while the water was still warm so you would not have a cold bath.  But I’m afraid you orchestrated your own downfall with that.”

 

Otabek grinned.  “I don’t mind.”  He stripped out of his breeches and stepped into the tub when Yuri stepped out, each of them definitely not eyeing the other’s erection.

 

The water was tepid, but Otabek truly did not care.  He barely felt the water at all.  He only wanted to wash himself as quickly as he could and get Yuri to the bed.  He reached for the soap, but Yuri took it first.

 

“Uh-uh.  I promised to wash your back, remember?”

 

Otabek was about to lean forward obligingly, but Yuri did not start with his back.  He instead reached for Otabek’s hand.  With deliberate care, he lathered Otabek’s palm, working the suds between his fingers, rubbing grime out of his nail beds, and then dipped their hands together into the water to rinse.  Then he did the same with the other side, and worked up Otabek’s arms.  Yuri soaped every inch of skin, making a slick exploration of Otabek’s forearms, his biceps, his shoulders.  He moved to Otabek’s chest and traced his fingers over the thin pink line across it, the freshly healed cut he’d gotten in the fight with their kidnappers.

 

One hand rose up and lightly touched the similar line of pink slashing across Otabek’s right eyebrow.  It gave his face a vaguely roguish look, which Yuri found he did not mind, despite the fact that he was unhappy Otabek had been hurt.

 

“I told you it would scar,” he murmured.

 

Otabek shrugged.  “And I told you it would not be my first.”  Indeed, it was not by far.  Otabek’s hands were covered in scars large and small, his torso littered with healed burns from errant sparks.

 

“It was the first you got for my sake.”  He paused, and Otabek laced their fingers together.  “I want it to be the last.”

 

“We can’t know what the future holds.”

 

“No,” Yuri agreed.  “But we can know ourselves.  We can know how we intend to act, what we plan to protect.”

 

“Yura…”  Otabek did not know what to say.  His heart felt full, bursting with hope and affection and… and something he did not dare call love.   

 

Abruptly, Yuri stood, unabashed of his nakedness.  “I- I want-”  He stopped and frowned, trying to find the right words.  

 

Otabek did not hesitate.  He rose and stepped out of the tub, water sluicing off him and falling unheeded to the floor.  Without pause, he went to his knees in front of Yuri.  He lifted Yuri’s hands and pressed a kiss to the inside of each of his wrists in turn.  And then, to complete the altered ritual, he whispered, “ _ at your command. _ ”

 

Yuri’s breath caught.  For a moment, he could only stare down at Otabek, unimaginably strong, fiercely willed, proud and stoic - offering himself to Yuri in willing submission.  Never could any hollow allegiance have felt like this.  No mindlessly given vow of obedience could have meant as much.  Yuri was both humbled and incredibly aroused.

 

“Take me,” he said, uncaring that his words sounded like a plea.  “Make me yours.”

 

The noise Otabek made could only be called a  _ growl _ and his steady gaze turned hot.  He surged to his feet and caught Yuri against his chest in a desperate kiss.  There were no clothes to shed, no obstacles between them.  Only skin against skin, building heat, rising urgency.

 

Otabek laid Yuri down on the bed and paused a moment before he followed.  He wanted to memorize the way Yuri looked, spread out on the bed, a willing offering.  The way his damp hair looked dark gold in the candle light, the pink of his lower lip where his teeth had it caught, the darkness of his eyes with his pupil nearly eclipsing the jewel tone of his iris.  It was breathtaking.

 

Any intent for a frantic joining left Otabek.  He did not know what the future held.  What he did know was what was before him now, and he wanted to stretch out this moment as long as fate would allow.  He wanted to tattoo this memory on his heart, keep every second crystal clear in his mind so that nothing of it would ever be lost to him.  Not the heat of Yuri’s skin, not the steady beat of his heart, not the sound of his soft sigh as Otabek slid his hand up Yuri’s thigh.

 

Slowly, intently, Otabek lifted Yuri’s leg and spread him wide.  Yuri did not squirm or resist.  He let Otabek stare at him, then lower his head between Yuri’s legs.  Otabek’s tongue flicked out, but it wasn’t against Yuri’s cock.  It lapped at the smooth place beneath it, then slid further back, towards furrowed skin.  Yuri gasped, shocked at how sensitive it was, at the fact that Otabek’s tongue was laving over him  _ there _ , that it was pressing  _ in _ -

 

“Beka!”  His fingers tangled into Otabek’s hair, not sure if he wanted to pull him away or press him closer.  He was already hard, droplets of precum smearing against his stomach with every twitch of his cock.  Otabek thrust his tongue again, twisted it, pulled back and repeated until Yuri was writhing and panting with pleasure.  “Please,” he begged, his hands fisting the sheets, “please-”

 

Otabek gave one long, last lick, then wiped his face with his forearm and moved up Yuri’s body.  He slicked his fingers with the oil Yuri pressed into his hand and then pushed them inside.  Yuri’s body welcomed them, taking them greedily and wanting more.  Despite Yuri’s readiness, though, Otabek did not rush.  He pressed a kiss behind Yuri’s ear, then traced his tongue along the shell of it.  He crooked his fingers, stroking Yuri steadily until he arched and moaned.  He used his free hand to stimulate Yuri’s nipple, one calloused fingertip rubbing it to peaked attention.

 

He kept Yuri incoherent with arousal for every moment of it, giving him no respite from the building pleasure.  He had given himself to Yuri, and now he was making Yuri his own.  Yuri’s body had no doubt who its master was; it responded readily to Otabek’s lightest call.

 

When Yuri was desperate with desire, Otabek fed his cock into Yuri’s pliant body.  The slick slide of skin against skin was heaven, the tight heat of Yuri’s hole gripping him was paradise.  He stroked Yuri’s cock and groaned at the way his muscles clenched around Otabek in reaction.  This was worth the risk, worth the heartache that might follow.

 

Otabek framed Yuri’s face in his hands and kissed him, slowly and deeply.  Yuri’s arms wrapped around his shoulders and he clung to Otabek, trying to pull them even closer together.  He wanted nothing between them, not even a whisper of air.  Without breaking the kiss, Otabek began to thrust.  Yuri’s cock was trapped between them, getting delicious friction each time Otabek drove into him.

 

There was no frantic rush to completion, no insistent drive for ultimate pleasure.  Just Otabek’s body pinning Yuri against the mattress, the steady creak of the bed with every thrust, the soft gasps from Yuri that Otabek breathed in every time he hit a spot deep inside him.  

 

Time lost all meaning.  Each moment seemed to stretch out, frozen just for them as the rest of the world rushed on around them.  There was only this.  No past, no future, just the two of them locked together suspended animation. 

 

When finally the pleasure built beyond all comprehension and they came, it was with Otabek’s name on Yuri’s lips and a bitten off declaration from Otabek that Yuri couldn’t be sure he hadn’t imagined.


	12. Chapter 12

The next morning was a blur despite how Yuri tried to hold onto each moment.  They had laid in the morning light, pressed together as the seconds slipped by faster than felt possible.  In another moment, they were dressed and on the horse, each clip of its hooves against the cobblestone bringing them closer to another world - a world in which what they had built together meant nothing.

 

Yuri found himself avoiding anyone in a royal uniform, unwilling to part with their solitude until absolutely necessary.  And then the walls of the palace were rising up before them and for one wild moment, Yuri wanted to run away.  They could leave, could turn around and never look back, could live the rest of their lives as Yura and Beka.

 

But on the heels of that thought were all the reasons they could not.  It wasn’t a choice either of them could make.  Suddenly, Yuri felt as though he was going to his doom instead of returning home.

 

It was ludicrous.  They were not going to be parted, never to see one another again.  Yes, things would change, but Yuri was the  _ prince _ .  He could find a way to make them both happy.  Life in the palace was his birthright.  This was where he belonged.  So it lacked the freedom to lead an uncomplicated life with Otabek.  So it had always seemed empty and a little cold.  So Yuri had let himself become a spoiled, selfish man within those walls.  That did not mean that things could not change.  That  _ Yuri _ had not changed.

 

With a deep breath to steel himself, Yuri turned, pressed a bruising kiss to Otabek’s lips, then spurred the horse through the palace gates.

 

***

 

At first, everything seemed to happen in slow motion - the first guard to catch sight of him, the look of shock on the man’s face, the cry that went up and was echoed around the courtyard until the air was ringing with it - and then time seemed to be making up every stretched instant and rushed forward at dizzying speed.  

 

Yuri tried to keep a grip on Otabek, afraid of what would happen if they were seperated, but in the chaos of the crowd ushering him forward, Yuri lost his hold.  He was looking around, desperately trying to spot the figure that usually stood a head above the crowd, but then he heard a door slam and a low cry that he recognized.  

 

When his eyes swung back, Victor had rushed through the door and stumbled, his wide, bloodshot eyes fixed on Yuri.  His mouth opened and closed, shock and disbelief stamped on his features.  Yuri had a split second to realize just how much his absence had worried Victor; to feel guilty for how much sleep his brother must have lost desperately searching for Yuri while Yuri had been enjoying his time with Otabek, reluctant to return home.  Victor hadn’t even buttoned up his shirt and his hair hung limply in his eyes.  All that from the man that Yuri had thought would barely notice he was gone.

 

And the next second Victor was tearing across the room, faster than Yuri had ever seen him move, a blur of silver hair as he dashed forward and caught Yuri up in his arms in a bone jarring embrace.

 

“Yurachka, Yurachak-  _ Yuri! _  Saints mercy I thought the worst!  I thought you were-”  His voice choked off, tears streaming down his face and falling unnoticed to the floor.  “But you’re here!  You’re here, you’re safe, you’re-”  He stopped again, running his hands along Yuri’s shoulders and arms as if to check him for invisible injuries.

 

Yuri tried to muster up some sarcastic remark, tried to find the will to push Victor away and call him an idiot, but instead clung to him.  He felt like, for the first time in ten years, his brother had come back.  His vision blurred as his eyes grew damp.  It should not have meant this much that Victor was glad to have him home, but oh, it did.

 

“What happened?  I’ve had soldiers out searching for you since you were discovered missing!  The slave-master had said you’d taken that pleasure slave with you that day, and he was worried you-”

 

“Otabek!”  Yuri’s attention was snapped back to Otabek, and he again turned to search the flock of people who had gathered in the entrance hall.  “Victor, he saved my life.  We were kidnapped and-”  He caught sight of a dark head of hair moving along the edges of the room towards the door and began pushing his way through the throng to try and reach it.  “Otabek!”  His voice was lost in the din.  Victor’s, however, wasn’t.

 

“ _ All cease!” _

 

Everyone in the room froze, hardly daring to breathe as the echoes of the king’s booming command rang around the room.  Yuri took full advantage, shoving through the crowd towards where he’d seen Otabek.  Soon his path was clearing itself as soldiers, guards, and servants realized his direction and moved out of the way.  He saw Otabek.

 

Who was being held with a tight grip on his cuff by the slave-master.

 

“Otabek!”  Yuri practically ran to him.

 

“I was just taking him back to the slave quarters, your highness, where he’ll be held until you are rested and can share what happened-”

 

“What?  No!  He  _ saved my life _ .  He doesn’t need to be  _ held _ anywhere.”

 

“Of course then, your highness.  We will just have him cleaned and prepared again and sent back to you with a fresh chain.”  

 

Otabek stiffened and his eyes flashed to Yuri, betraying his unease, though he said nothing.  Yuri’s mind fixated on the image of Otabek being  _ prepared _ for him and he fought the urge to snatch Otabek’s wrist out of the slave-master’s hand.

 

“ _ No _ .  Leave him.”

 

“Highness, the chain at least,” the slave-master pressed, clearly scandalized that Otabek was standing free in the palace, “surely you understand-”

 

“My brother has made himself quite clear,” Victor cut in, coming to stand by them.  The slave-master bowed several times and could barely stammer out a response.

 

“O-o-of course!  Your Majesty!”  He released Otabek’s wrist and stepped back, bowing again.  Yuri automatically moved to Otabek’s side and only just stopped himself from throwing his arms around him.

 

“Thank you,” Otabek breathed, quietly enough that no one else heard him.  Yuri laced their fingers together and squeezed, just for a moment, then managed to pull himself away.

 

“Perhaps we can take this somewhere more comfortable, and private.  I’m sure you have quite a tale to tell.”  Victor put his hand on Yuri’s shoulder, obviously wanting to reassure himself that his brother wouldn’t vanish again.  Yuri nodded agreement.

 

“Do you need food or drink, either of you?”  Victor’s consort spoke from beside them, where he’d been standing, unobtrusively, the whole time.  Yuri’s first reaction to anything the other Yuuri had to say would have been an insult, but the fact that he’d offered it to both Yuri  _ and _ Otabek automatically, despite Otabek’s station, made him refrain.

 

“Neither would go amiss.  We have come a long way on basic provisions.”

 

Yuuri nodded and stepped away to arrange a meal to be set up for them in Victor’s private parlor.  Servants scurried to obey, leaving the four men to make their way through the palace.  Victor did not let go of Yuri until they were all seated, and even then he kept his eyes fixed on him.

 

“What happened?” he asked as soon as the last servant had left, closing the door behind her.

 

“We were kidnapped.  The two men meant to only take me, but Otabek and I were attached by a slave chain.  Otabek tried to defend me, but they knocked him out and drugged us both.  When I woke, we were already two days from the palace and Otabek was fighting them.  He killed the kidnappers, but we were stranded in the middle of nowhere with nothing.  No food, no horses, not even clothing.  We had to take what little the kidnappers had and try to make our way back.”

 

“Saints above, it’s a miracle you survived.  There was no blood, so we had hoped you weren’t hurt, but the slave-master voiced such adamant concerns about the slave you’d taken to your room that we feared-”  He stopped, shaking his head.  “But it seems that the opposite was true.  You have my eternal gratitude for protecting my brother, Otabek.”

 

Victor held out his hand and Otabek stared at it for a moment, slack jawed, before rousing himself and shaking it.  “Your Majesty,” was all he said.

 

“How did you manage to make your way back?” Victor went on, politely ignoring Otabek’s awe at having just shaken the king’s hand.

 

“It was not without incident,” Yuri admitted.  “I did not have shoes that fit, and my feet were mangled by the boots I had pilfered from the kidnapper, but Otabek doctored them as best he could and tore apart the boots to make a kind of sandal for me the next day.”  He spoke with obvious pride, remembering how hard Otabek had worked on them for him.  “Otabek fished for us to eat and we eventually came to a town.  We found a blacksmith to take the chain off, and he was willing to let Otabek work for him a few days to earn us enough money to buy a horse.  Then we- we rode back here.”

 

It was the barest telling of the story, leaving out all the intimacy, the enormity of what had happened those last few days.  Yuri half wanted to tell Victor what else had occured between them, but wasn’t sure he could manage it.

 

“It seems I have more yet to thank you for, Otabek.  You worked at a smith to raise coin?  That is not easy labour.”

 

Otabek shrugged.  “I am familiar with the trade.”

 

“I see.”  Victor’s tone was considering.  It seemed that he, too, was intrigued by the man he’d been told had likely kidnapped or killed his brother but had apparently been his savior.  Still, he did not push.  “Yuri, I want to have the physician look at your feet tomorrow to make sure they are well healed and that you haven’t suffered any other harm.  For now, I’m sure you would appreciate a hot bath and rest.”

 

Yuri was nodding agreement before Victor had even finished speaking.  His bath at the inn had been wonderful in its own way, but he could practically  _ feel _ the steam from his own oversized copper tub, smell the herbed water…

 

“Normally I would suggest you send your slave back to the harem to seek his own respite, but you seemed reluctant to part from him earlier…?”

 

Yuri was jerked out of his thoughts and found himself reaching for Otabek without thinking.  “I want him to stay.  With me.”  He hated Victor referring to Otabek as his slave.  Hated even the  _ word _ harem.  The thought of Otabek back there, now that he knew what had happened to him there, was more than he could bear.

 

“Whatever you want, Yurachka.  I’m sure, once you have settled in, you will want to reward him for everything he has done.”  There was a wealth of meaning behind the words.  Yuri could hear Victor’s suggestion that Otabek be freed as clearly as though he’d spoken those words directly.  But Victor did not know that Yuri wanted to do that very thing already and was afraid of somehow putting Otabek’s family in danger by doing it.

 

Instead of trying to explain, he just nodded and stood.  He had just stuffed a handful of cookies in his pocket and was turning to leave when Victor caught his arm and turned him back.  He pulled Yuri in for a tight hug and held him.

 

“I’m so glad you’re home, Yuri.”  Once again, his voice was thick with emotion and Yuri had to fight to keep from responding in kind.  He barely managed to pull himself away and walk out, and only then because he had Otabek at his side.

 

***

 

It felt strange, walking the palace halls with Otabek, after everything that had happened.  Like a bizarre parody of that first day they’d spent together.  Yuri was glad when they reached his rooms and he finally felt like he could relax.  There was a locked door between them and the rest of the world.

 

The servants must have begun preparing things for Yuri as soon as he’d been spotted, because his huge copper tub was already filled with steaming, fragrant water, and there was yet another spread of food laid for him.  He let out a sigh of relief and tugged off his shirt, tossing it carelessly on the floor.

 

A noise behind him made him turn.  Otabek was standing with his back to the door, his eyes flicking everywhere but Yuri’s bare chest.  His weight shifted, his whole frame stiff with uncertainty.

 

“I- I thought a bath would be nice.  A  _ real _ bath.”

 

“Do you want my assistance, your highness?”

 

Yuri embraced the barrage of conflicting emotions that slammed into him.  Instead of reacting to any of them, he kept his face carefully blank.  “That depends.”

 

“On?”

 

“Do you  _ want _ to assist me, Beka?”

 

The use of the nickname Yuri had given him, the gentle, inviting tone he used, the way Yuri held out his hand, all made Otabek relax visibly.  But he did not move from the door.  “There is room in the tub for two.” 

 

The span of a single heartbeat passed, then two.  And then Otabek strode across the room and pulled Yuri into his arms.  The tension Yuri hadn’t realized he’d been holding onto evaporated like smoke.  He smiled, and they both stripped down to settle in the water.

 

Otabek reclined against the back of the tub and Yuri lay between his legs, his back against Otabek’s chest.  Otabek’s fingers traced wet circles across Yuri’s stomach.

 

“I want to do what’s right,” Yuri said softly.  “I want to be the man I was out there, with you, and not the spoiled child I’d always been here.  I want to make you happy, Beka.  But I don’t know how to do that like this.  I… I don’t know what  _ we _ are.”

 

Otabek’s fingers stilled.  “I am your slave.”

 

“And what else?”

 

“Whatever else you want.”

 

“What about what  _ you _ want?”

 

“That… isn’t supposed to matter.”

 

“It does, to me.  You know it does.  Beka, I-”  Yuri turned so that he could face Otabek properly.  “We both know you are not just my slave.  There is so much more to you - to  _ us _ .  And I want to do what’s best for you but I’m  _ afraid _ .  I’m afraid I’ll say or do the wrong thing and hurt you.  I want to protect you, Beka, whatever that takes, but I’m so afraid that I’ll do something wrong.”

 

Otabek searched Yuri’s eyes.  For a moment, Yuri thought he was on the verge of admitting everything, of finally telling Yuri his story.  But something held him back, and he shook his head.

 

“Knowing you feel that way is enough, Yura.  I told you that I trust you with my life, and I still do.”

 

It was a precious sentiment, but Yuri was still conflicted.  “Do you still want me, Otabek?  Here, like this?”

 

“You are the moon and I am the ocean,” Otabek answered, his words sparking the memory of their night together in the woods.  “I cannot help but be drawn to you.  Nor would I wish it otherwise.”

 

“Then- then have me, here, now, inside the walls of the palace.  Let me be yours as much as you are mine.”

 

Yuri’s words were everything Otabek needed to hear.  The sense of belonging was still difficult for him, but if Yuri was his in return, it was a weight he could gladly bear.

 

Otabek worked Yuri open with one of the oils at the bath’s edge, then positioned Yuri atop him.  He let Yuri go at his own pace, sinking down onto Otabek’s cock slowly and steadily.  It took Yuri a few tries to find the right rhythm, the way to move that brought both of them the most  pleasure, but soon he found it and their bodies moved in sync, straining towards completion.  Yuri rode Otabek until he was breathless and his thighs were burning, then let Otabek take them from the water and push back inside of him on the bed.

 

Otabek raised Yuri’s hips up and bent forward.  Stretched as far as he could go, he managed to catch the tip of Yuri’s cock between his lips and suck it while he thrust inside of him.  Yuri came almost instantly, overwhelmed by the dual sensations.  Otabek released him when the last of his orgasm had finished pulsing through his cock, then thrust into Yuri hard and fast to claim his own release.

 

He collapsed beside Yuri on the bed, panting with exertion.  A moment later, Yuri curled against him, resting his head over Otabek’s pounding heart.

 

“I’m going to make mistakes,” Yuri whispered.  “I know I will.  But I never want to hurt you.  And I never want to force you.  No matter how we handle everything else, I need you to promise me that you won’t ever feel forced to be with me.”

 

Otabek ran his fingers through Yuri’s hair, the sincerity in Yuri’s tone letting him smile in spite of how serious the circumstances were.  “Are you giving me permission to defy my master?”

 

“I am giving you permission to defy  _ anyone _ who touches you in a way you do not want.  In fact, I insist on it.  That is the only order I hope to ever give you, and I expect you to always abide by it.”

 

Otabek smiled again, warmed at Yuri’s declaration.  “At your command.”


	13. Chapter 13

It was not easy.  But then, Yuri had not expected it to be.  Everyone in the palace still saw Otabek as a pleasure slave, and those first few days after their return, they still treated him as one.

 

The tailor had not thought Otabek would need clothes, ‘ _ in his position.’ _  Yuri quickly and harshly dissuaded him of the notion.

 

The slave-master had brought Yuri a selection of gleaming golden plugs to use on the slave himself since Yuri insisted none of the slave trainers touch Otabek.  Yuri had been so furious that he’d sent the man from the room near tears and then hurled the box of plugs down the hall after him.

 

The servant hesitant to give Otabek his meal at the same table as Yuri was snapped at.  The court official who had tried to insist that Otabek greet him  _ ‘as a slave ought _ ’ was snarled at.  Anyone who made the mistake of treating Otabek as a slave in Yuri’s presence was dressed down so thoroughly that they did not dare make the same mistake twice.

 

Otabek was soon treated with a kind of confused deference.  He was seen as Prince Yuri’s adored pet, not to be displeased at any cost.  Fear of Yuri’s wrath made Otabek free to go anywhere in the palace without being disturbed.  Yuri encouraged that independence, though at first, Otabek seemed at a loss as to what to do with it.  With a purpose, a task, Otabek was motivated and energetic.  But what purpose did he have in the palace other than being companion to Yuri?

 

It was a small victory when Otabek took it upon himself to keep the horse they’d bought together, Joker, exercised and cared for.  Showing Otabek the library and giving him full access to it had been another.  Otabek could happily spend hours among the books, or, as he preferred, taking a book outside and reading in the sunshine.

 

Yuri put almost all of his focus on making sure Otabek had everything he could want.  And yet… and yet it didn’t seem like enough.

 

Less than a fortnight after their return, Yuri found himself hesitating outside Victor’s door.  The guard glanced at him, likely confused, but said nothing.  Before, Yuri wouldn’t have even noticed his presence.  Now, he wondered if this was one of the guards that knew Otabek.  Was he one of the ones that had seen Yuri lead Otabek naked to his rooms that night?  The thought scalded him until he knocked on the door to escape it.

 

There was a soft scuffle from inside, then a moment later the door opened.  “Yes?” Victor asked, looking down at the buttons of his shirt as he fastened them and failing to conceal the bright, fresh hickey on his collarbone.

 

“I’ll just come back-” Yuri turned to flee, but Victor caught his arm.

 

“Yuri!”  He urged Yuri back, and Yuri caught a glimpse of Victor’s consort slipping into a robe.  “It’s good to see you here.  Please come in.”

 

“You’re obviously busy.  I’ll just-” he tried to squirm out from under Victor’s arm, but Victor didn’t let him.

 

“It’s fine, Yurachka.  Come, let’s talk!  I’m sure something is on your mind.”

 

“I’ll give you two some privacy, Vitya,” Yuuri said, giving Victor a quick kiss on his shoulder.  Victor caught Yuuri’s hand and pressed a kiss back on to it.

 

“Thank you, my love.”  He did not let go of Yuuri’s hand until neither of their arms reached any longer, and his eyes followed Yuuri as he left the room.

 

For the first time, Yuri did not see only a disgusting display of overdramatic romance.  He saw tenderness and affection.  He saw the way Yuuri had provided Victor with what he’d needed, unasked and without complaint.  He saw Victor’s gratitude for his partner and his desire to reinforce their bond, despite their small separation.  Yuri’s stomach clenched with a small pang of jealousy, but overshadowing the feeling was a larger one of gladness.  Victor was truly happy with Yuuri, and despite all that had happened between them in the past, Yuri knew that Victor deserved that happiness.

 

“Now, Yuri,” Victor said as he ushered Yuri to a chair and took a seat himself.  “Tell me what’s brought you to my door.”

 

“I… I’m worried about Otabek,” Yuri admitted.  Victor’s eyebrow arched.

 

“From what I’ve heard, he is a very well attended slave.  In fact, if I’m not mistaken, he is at this very moment reading happily in the King’s own library.”

 

“That’s not- I mean, he still-”

 

“Have you changed your mind about keeping a pleasure slave?”

 

Victor’s tone was soft, but the words made Yuri’s hackles raise.  Victor had lectured Yuri endlessly when he’d first claimed Otabek as his own.  He’d railed on about the responsibility of it, on how it was a commitment, that Yuri could not simply take the man and then abandon him when he grew bored.  And that’s exactly what Victor assumed he was doing now.  That he’d changed his mind and wanted to foist Otabek off on someone else.  Even after everything.  He could only see Yuri as a spoiled child, incapable of caring about anyone but himself.

 

“Forget it,” Yuri snarled.  “I don’t know why I thought  _ you _ would be able to help.  You never have before.”  He pushed out of the chair, prepared to storm from the room, but Victor pushed him back down forcefully.

 

“ _ Don’t _ .”  He gentled his hands on Yuri’s shoulders, then crouched down so that they were face to face.  “Don’t run away from me, Yuri.  Not when I’ve just gotten you back.  I thought- I want this to be a turning point for us.  I know I wasn’t always there for you when you were younger, but Yuri-”  Victor stopped, practically collapsing back into his seat again.

 

“When mother and father died, I was a terrified eighteen year old, with an entire country looking to me to lead it.  I was grieving.  I was overwhelmed.  In my attempt to be the ruler everyone expected me to be, I neglected you.  And I’m not asking you to forgive me for so many years of being distant, but I’m asking you, as an adult, for a little  _ understanding _ .  I will always regret that I put the running of our country ahead of taking care of my family, but I was trying to do the right thing.  I never intended to hurt you or push you away.”

 

The words floored Yuri.  He’d always thought that Victor would rather have been handling dignitaries and signing laws than dealing with his little brother.  Hearing Victor admit that he’d been scared, that he’d been overwhelmed, opened Yuri’s eyes to how impossible of a task Victor had been given.  And what was more, his wanting to  _ do the right thing _ resonated with Yuri on a profound level.

 

Perhaps, more than anything else, what softened Yuri was that Victor was not speaking to him as his kid brother, or as a foolish child.  He’d spoken to Yuri as an adult, his peer and counterpart.  It was enough to make Yuri stay.  To make him want to open up again.

 

“I’m not going to start getting all misty eyed about brotherly affection, if that’s what you’re expecting,” Yuri groused, unable to help himself from sniping a little.  Victor just laughed.

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.  But will you at least trust me with what is bothering you?”  

 

Yuri hesitated, wanting to reach out to Victor, but hold resentments were hard to overcome.  Eventually he took a deep breath and admitted the truth.  “I’m worried someone’s threatened Otabek’s family.”

 

“What?”  Victor drew back in shock.  Of all the things he’d expected Yuri to say, that was not one of them.

 

“He… he is very reticent about his family.  I’ve asked him before why he became a slave, and he will not say.  It makes no sense when, from what I’ve learned about him, he is a talented blacksmith and has sisters he loves.  And before… when we were out of the palace, he said that he would not tell me because he could not risk his family’s security.  The only thing I can think of that he could possibly mean is that someone somehow threatened him into becoming a slave or his sisters would be harmed, and telling me about it would endanger them.”

 

Victor blinked several times, trying to process the rush of information.  What Yuri was saying did not make sense to him.  Why would someone want Otabek to be a slave in order to not hurt his family?  What possible benefit could it be to anyone else for Otabek to be a slave?  How would Yuri finding out about the situation endanger Otabek’s sisters?

 

“Think back, Yuri.  How  _ exactly _ did he word it?”

 

“He said…” Yuri closed his eyes, trying to make sure he remembered it perfectly.  “He said that if it was just for his sake, he would tell me.  That he trusts me with his life.  But that it wasn’t his life alone that might be affected.  He said that he could not take the risk that harm could come to his family because of his failings.”

 

Victor replayed the words in his head, then did it again, trying to puzzle out the meaning behind them.  He thought about what he’d learned of Otabek in the short time he’d been in the palace.  Of how the slave-master had described his uncooperativeness and poor performance.  He remembered how Otabek and Yuri had met.  He recalled, too, how Yuri had acted before the journey they’d gone that had changed him so much.

 

“He said specifically, ‘harm that could come to his family because of his  _ failings _ ?’”

 

Yuri nodded.  “I remember that part in particular because it made the least sense to me.  What harm could befall them that I could not protect them from?  I’m the  _ prince _ .  No one but you would oppose me.”

 

No one, indeed.  Victor thought that maybe he understood, and while he could see the necessity of it, it stung.  What was more, it would hurt Yuri when he found out.  And worst of all, he could see no immediate fix to the problem.  What could possibly force Otabek to see that he could trust Yuri? Unless something happened that gave Yuri the opportunity to stand up for Otabek, to prove himself, then Victor didn’t think Otabek would be willing to tell Yuri the truth for a long time to come.  There was a part of Victor that was tempted to let it happen naturally, but it would be better, for both their sakes, if this was behind them.

 

But who or what could possibly push them so far?

 

_ No one but you would oppose me _ .

 

Victor calmed as the answer hit him.  Of course.  He had only to pull the right strings and he could make Otabek see that Yuri was worthy of his trust - even with something so precious as his family.  Because Victor had no doubt, looking at the young man before him now, that it was true.  He smiled and patted Yuri’s knee.

 

“Give me some time to think on this.  It’s clear that you and Otabek have a complicated relationship and you are both still learning about each other.  Why don’t you bring him to the throne room tomorrow?  I’ll clear some time.  I’d like to thank him formally for saving you.  And for the positive influence he’s been on you, brother.”

 

“Alright,” Yuri agreed.  “He’s a good man, Victor.”

 

“I believe you.”  Victor rose when Yuri did and walked him to the door.  “Tomorrow, then?”

 

“Tomorrow.”

 

***

 

In the morning, a servant brought Yuri a note with the time he was to bring Otabek to the throne room.  Otabek had been both humbled and discomfited by the idea of being thanked formally by his king for helping Yuri.  He felt a strong fealty to Victor, not just as the ruler, but as one who had enacted such positive change in the kingdom.  He respected and admired Victor in a way that would have made Yuri jealous if he doubted Otabek’s affection.

 

Otabek paced Yuri’s rooms nervously, working himself into a fit.  Eventually, Yuri suggested they go for a ride together to distract him.  Otabek agreed enthusiastically and practically dragged Yuri towards the stable.  They were already halfway when Yuri realized he wasn’t wearing riding boots.  He seriously considered letting it go, but he prided himself on being a good horseman, and a good horseman wore proper attire.  He pushed Otabek to the door and promised to meet him as soon as he’d changed, then headed back to his rooms.

 

He was just about to turn down the hall to his quarters when he heard the guards talking together in hushed tones.  It was a new thing to Yuri, noticing the movements of the guards, being aware of them as people and trying to be considerate of them.  He paused, wondering if it was more polite to let them finish their conversation, or to clear his throat and let them know that he was there.  He didn’t care to overhear what they were saying-

 

Until he heard Otabek’s name.  Yuri immediately froze, hardly daring to breathe.

 

“-too bad, really.  His father was a good man.”

 

“The prince seems to treat him well enough, now.”

 

“Now, sure.  We can only hope it lasts.  You weren’t there the first night he collected him.  Walked the poor kid through the halls just like a traditional pleasure slave.”

 

“No- naked?  Pierced?”  There was a silence, and Yuri could only imagine the first man was nodding.  “I can’t imagine Fask Altin’s son bearing such a thing.  I can hardly even face Amri.  She asked me once how he was and I couldn’t stomach telling her that her big brother had become a pleasure slave.”

 

“I think it was for his sister’s sakes that he came here.”

 

“For their sake?  How does him getting bent over by the prince help his sisters?  He had to renounce all family when he became a slave.”

 

“I’m not saying anything for sure,” the first guard said.  His voice dropped even lower, and Yuri had to strain to hear it.  “But you know how the family was after Fask’s death, and then the mother going not two months later.  Not a pair of coppers to rub together, what with the business gone and all those little mouths to feed.  Well, Otabek comes here, and suddenly the girls are well enough off to get by.  On their own, no less.”

 

“I never considered what the girls were living on… but that doesn’t make sense.  It’s not as though they could’ve sold him into it.  That was outlawed with all the other forms of involuntary slavery.  No way would King Victor have allowed that to happen.”

 

“I’m not saying it did.  I’m just saying that the Altins were on the verge of poverty, and now they’re not.”  There was silence for a moment, then the guard added, “if he did have something to do with it, however he did it, he’s a better man than me.  I don’t know if I could subject myself to what he does, even to feed my family.”

 

“Well at least now it’s-”

 

“Hey, be quiet for a second.  I think someone’s coming.”

 

Yuri flinched, afraid they’d heard him.  A moment later he heard what they had.  The soft clip of boots coming from the opposite direction.  Yuri didn’t wait to find out who was coming.  He turned and fled.

 

***

 

Yuri’s first thought was to go to Victor.  He did not understand what the guards’ words could mean.  It didn’t make  _ sense _ .  Victor had outlawed selling slaves, just like they’d said.  There was no way Otabek had gotten money in exchange for becoming a slave.  So how did the money fit into the rest of the story?

 

He found Victor’s aid standing outside the doors to the council chambers.  “Is Victor in there?”

 

“Yes, your highness, but I can’t let you in.”

 

“This is important.”  Yuri moved to step around the aid, but found his path blocked again.

 

“I apologize sincerely, highness, but he cannot be disturbed.  You have a meeting with him in another hour.  He has already rearranged his schedule to accommodate that.  This meeting is a very important diplomatic one.”

 

“But-” Yuri stopped, forcing himself to be rational.  Victor  _ had _ already made time for them.  It wasn’t that long to wait.  He didn’t want to cause a political scandal by bursting in on a meeting to tell Victor about something he didn’t even understand the significance of.  No, he could wait until after Victor had thanked Otabek, then he would ask to talk to Victor in private and explain what he’d overheard.  Victor would find a way to get to the bottom of it, and he would make sure there was no danger to Otabek’s sisters.

 

Satisfied, Yuri went to find Otabek.


	14. Chapter 14

Yuri had considered, as they had been on their ride, telling Otabek the speculation he’d heard from the guards.  He also considered telling Otabek that he’d talked to Victor about his concerns for Otabek’s family.

 

The reason he held back was that he feared making Otabek feel like he was pushing him.  He’d promised Otabek the last time they had spoken of it that he wouldn’t ask again.  He didn’t want to break his word, despite his concerns.  If, like he hoped, Victor could help Yuri figure out what was going on and fix it, then he could protect Otabek’s family without even having to talk to him about it.

 

Keeping that hope foremost in his mind, Yuri led Otabek to the throne room in silence.  He could feel Otabek’s apprehension and excitement from beside him, and despite the worries that preyed on his mind, he smiled.  This was a huge moment for Otabek, and he had certainly earned it.  Putting up with Yuri those first days couldn’t have been easy.

 

They were ushered into the throne room by the same hassled looking aid Yuri had spoken to before, then left alone with Victor.  Only the King’s Guard remained in the room.  For a moment, that bothered Yuri.  Otabek’s commendation should have been a public event, with all of court there to see it.  But he knew Otabek would not have been comfortable with that.  It was better this way after all.

 

Victor  beckoned them forward from where he sat on the throne, smiling lightly.

 

“Yuri, Otabek.  Please, come nearer.”

 

They went to the base of the small dias and stopped.  Yuri greeted Victor with the formal bow used in court, and Otabek went to his knees.  A thread of unease went through Yuri’s stomach.  He didn’t like seeing Otabek kneeling for anyone.

 

“Otabek.” Victor leaned forward and touched him lightly on the shoulder.  “Rise, please.  You may be a slave, but you are my brother’s companion and savior.  I would like for us to be friends.”  Shocked, or perhaps overwhelmed, Otabek got to his feet but said nothing.  “I have brought you here to formally thank you for what you did for the Prince of this kingdom.  Your actions saved his life, and I owe you a debt that cannot ever be repaid for that.  You acted when it would have been easier to do nothing, when perhaps it would have benefited you to do nothing.  That speaks highly of honor and integrity.”

 

“I- thank you, your Majesty.”  Otabek looked almost flushed, but Yuri was proud that be met the king’s eyes and did not look away.  Victor smiled again and sat back, the picture of grace and ease.

 

“I would like to know more about you, Otabek.  You said you apprenticed as a blacksmith before coming to the palace?”

 

“I did, Majesty.”  He shifted, unease starting to creep up.  Yuri moved closer to him and subtly touched his hand.  A reassurance.  He guessed that Victor was just getting as much information directly from Otabek as he could so that he was not missing any pieces of the puzzle.

 

“Strange to give up such an occupation, given that you were so talented in the trade.”

 

“...I was nothing special.”

 

Victor waved his modesty away.  “Nonsense.  You were talented enough to raise funds to buy a horse in only a few days.  And Yuri has told me how beautiful the pieces you made were.  I’m curious, then, what prompted you to leave it behind.”  Otabek said nothing, as Yuri expected.  “And I’m guessing you must have had a family as well.  They would have been abandoned when you came here.”

 

Yuri flinched.  Otabek did not move, but Yuri could tell the comment cut him.  It had been required for him to renounce all familial ties to become a slave, yes, but  _ abandon _ was a cruel word to use.  Victor’s prompting was getting heavy handed, no matter how well intentioned it was.

 

“Sate my curiosity, Otabek.  Tell me what would make a man like you give up his whole life and become a slave.”

 

Again, Yuri winced.  Prompting was one thing, but that had been a direct order, and Otabek would end up having to refuse it.  With how much he respected the king, it would be a hard thing for him to do.

 

“With all due respect, Majesty, my life before is of no consequence.  Only who I am now, in Yuri’s service, has any matter.”

 

Victor shook his finger at Otabek, a pleasant smile still on his face.  “Now, now, Otabek.  It  _ sounded _ as if you just disobeyed a direct order from your king.  Surely you wouldn’t do such a thing willingly.  Let me make myself more plain.  Tell me, in whole and in truth, why you became a slave.”

 

“I-”

 

“Victor, you’re going too far.  That’s not-”

 

“Silence!”  Victor’s smile dropped, his eyes going flat and cold.  The man before them was not older brother and friend.  It was the King, and his patience was being tested.  “Prince Yuri, you will show me respect in my throne room or I will have you removed from it.  You were not asked a question.  You are not to interfere with this.  I gave the slave an order and I expect it obeyed.”

 

“Victor!” Yuri could not believe it.  He had never seen his brother this way, not even at his most distant when they were younger.  What was he doing?

 

“One more word, Yuri, and my guards will drag you from this room.”

 

Yuri’s jaw snapped shut.  He wanted to defend Otabek, to shake Victor out of whatever madness seemed to have overtaken him, but he could do neither if Victor threw him out.  He stood at Otabek’s side, furious but silent.  

 

Once he was certain that Yuri would not interrupt again, Victor’s eyes moved back to Otabek.   “Now, slave.”

 

Otabek’s hands tightened into fists, his brow furrowed.  Yuri could almost see him trying to find a way around this.  There was none.  He dropped back to his knees and bowed his head.  “I cannot, Majesty.”

 

“Cannot, or  _ will not _ .”

 

“Will not.”

 

“And you are aware, are you not, that I am well within my rights to do any number of things to  _ make _ you do as I command?”

 

Otabek’s head rose slowly.  When he met Victor’s gaze, his own was hard and flinty.  “There is nothing you can do to me that would make me tell you this.”  A heavy silence settled around them, then Victor flashed Otabek a cold smile.

 

“Perhaps you are right.  A man like you is not as motivated by threats to himself.”  As Yuri watched, Otabek’s entire body went taut as a wire.  It was as if he could tell what Victor would say next, though Yuri had no idea.  “No, you respond far better to threats to those you care for, don’t you, Otabek?”

 

Yuri could see that to be true, but the very thought of Victor using that against Otabek sickened him.  Yuri’s only relief was that, even if in whatever insanity had overcome Victor, he  _ did _ decide to use Otabek’s sisters against him, there was no way for him to know who they were.  They were safe as long as Otabek did not tell him more, and it was clear that Otabek would never give them up that way, no matter what Victor did to him.

 

Just as Yuri was gaining a small amount of confidence in the situation, Victor turned to him, that cold smile still on his face.  “Prince Yuri.  Your slave has disobeyed a direct order from his king and disrespected me in my home.  His actions are deserving of severe punishment.  Say, twenty lashes.  But-” he raised his hand and continued speaking before Yuri could protest.  “But, as he is  _ your _ slave, and  _ your _ responsibility, I think it only fitting that you take his punishment.”

 

“No!” Otabek surged to his feet while Yuri gaped at his brother in shock.  Victor rested his chin in his hand and watched Otabek steadily.

 

“I think that will strip the skin from his back, don’t you, slave?”

 

“You bastard!”

 

“Insults now, too?  Let’s make it thirty lashes.  I wonder if you will be proud of your silence once his skin has been flayed off and his back scarred for life.”

 

“You can’t!”  Otabek was barely containing himself, seething rage at Victor’s mad cruelty.

 

“I  _ can’t _ ?  I am  _ King _ .  Watch me.  Guards, take my brother to the courtyard to be whipped.”

 

The guards closest to Yuri moved towards him, and Otabek lost all restraint.  He surged forward, putting himself between Yuri, who was still staring in horrified shock, and the guard reaching for him.  The guard tried to go around him and Otabek’s fist crashed against his face, sending him flying backward.  All the guards in the room sprang into action.  They pressed forward, intent on Otabek, and he barely had a chance to wonder why none of them were drawing their swords on him before all of his focus was on keeping them back.  He sent two more skidding across the room and had left three others on the ground by the time he had Yuri backed into a corner.  Otabek stood in front of him in a fighting crouch, his teeth bared like a wolf.

 

“That’s quite enough,” Victor called, stilling the guards with a gesture.  He rose and crossed to the first man Otabek had struck, who was still on the floor looking dazed, his eye already black and swollen.  “Now you have attacked the King’s Guard.  That is high treason.  The penalty is death.  However, since you did save my brother’s life, I will be merciful.  Fifty lashes.  And maybe,” he stepped close, touching Otabek lightly on the temple, “one of your eyes, in retribution for my guard.”  Otabek growled at him, and Victor narrowed his eyes.  “You may be strong enough to fight off my guard, which is quite an impressive feat, but you cannot fight an entire army.  I can have soldiers filling this hall with a single command.  Come now.  Submit yourself.  Fifty lashes and your eye.  Then you can scamper back to wherever my brother hides you away.”

 

Otabek’s shoulders dropped, defeated.

 

The pain of that snapped Yuri out of his shock.  He stepped around Otabek and met his brother’s glare boldly.  “No.  You said I am responsible for him.  Then, this punishment should be mine, too.”

 

“Yura, don’t!”

 

Victor raised a brow at the informal way Otabek addressed Yuri, but all his focus was on Yuri himself.  “Are you really willing to take his place, brother?”

 

“I will protect him from you, whatever the cost,” Yuri spat.  “But I never again want to hear you call me brother.  I do not know you.  Were you honestly going to use Otabek’s love for me against him?  To punish him by hurting me?  You  _ disgust _ me.  I am ashamed that I ever called someone who could do something so horrendous family.”  Yuri paused for breath, and added in a soft, broken voice, “I trusted you.”

 

The door to the throne room flew open just as Victor burst into tears.

 

“What the hell is going on in here?” Yuuri demanded.  He hurried to Victor’s side, putting an arm around him and wiping his tears.

 

“Nothing,” Victor sniffed.  “Just showing something to Yuri’s consort.”

 

“Something that involved a brawl with your guards?  Look at poor Stephan over there.”  He pointed to the guard that Otabek had punched.  “Stephan, go to the infirmary at once and have that looked at.  And take Ulric with you, he doesn’t look any better off.”

 

“What the fuck do you mean, Victor?” Yuri demanded, fearing he would get whiplash from Victor’s changing moods.  Victor turned back to Yuri.

 

“Yuuuuuuuuuri!”  He threw his arms around his brother and peppered his face with kisses until Yuri batted him back.  “Of course I would never hurt you, my Yurachka.  How you could believe such a thing is appalling.  And with such a dismal performance.  Do you really think so little of me?”

 

“What. The fuck.  Is going on.”

 

Victor pouted, turning to Yuuri for consolation.  “I said it already.  I was proving a point.  About trust.”

 

“You mean the point that I can’t trust you as far as I can throw you?”

 

“No.”  Victor spoke to Yuri, but he was staring at Otabek.  “That you are trustworthy to the point of sacrificing yourself to protect those you care about.  Just like Otabek here.”

 

“Why the hell would we need that proven?”

 

Victor had finally composed himself enough to leave Yuuri’s arms.  He stepped close to Otabek, who was still watching him warily.  “I think what was perhaps the most telling part, was Yuri’s reaction to my threatening your loved ones in order to punish you.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so repulsed.  I think it’s safe to trust that it is not something he would ever be capable of doing himself.  Don’t you?”

 

Otabek’s lips parted in silent shock.

 

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”  Yuri looked between them, utterly lost.

 

“Unless I’m very much mistaken, the two of you have things to discuss.  We’ll give you privacy to do so.”  He gestured at the guards, who turned and filed out of the room as if they had been expecting the order.  “And Otabek-” Victor took Otabek’s arm, not begrudging the way he jumped at the contact.  “I am truly happy that you have come into my brother’s life.  I have no doubt that when you move past this, I will be giving you both my blessing.  I could not ask for a more suitable consort for Yuri.”  He gave Otabek’s arm one last squeeze and then turned, leaving the throne room with Yuuri at his side.

 

“Were all those dramatics  _ really _ necessary, Victor?”  Yuuri asked with a sigh.

 

“I think it worked out rather spectacularly!”

 

“But your poor guards.  Otabek looks like he has a fist like an iron hammer.”

 

Victor laughed.  “I offered whoever helped out with my little scheme two weeks paid leave.  There were quite a few volunteers.”

 

The door closed behind them, and Yuri and Otabek were left alone.


	15. Chapter 15

“Beka, please tell me you know what’s going on, because honestly, I’ve never been more lost.”

  


“I… I know what the king was telling me, but I have no idea how he knew.  I don’t-”  He shook his head.  “The point of all that charade, provided it really  _ was _ a charade, was to show me that I could tell you the truth.  About why I came here.  About my family.”

  


“All that insanity somehow frees you to tell me?”

  


Otabek nodded.  “Let’s sit down.”  They moved over to the dias and sat on the edge of it, angled towards each other so that their knees almost touched.  Yuri might have sat on the throne just to thumb his nose at Victor, but he knew Otabek would be appalled, despite all that had just happened.  “It is not a simple story to tell,” Otabek said.  “I cannot explain the ending without first telling you the beginning.  And that was my father’s death.

  


“He was a talented and successful blacksmith.  The largest smithy in the capitol was his, and we lived above it.  When I got old enough, I apprenticed with him.  I had every intention of following in his footsteps and eventually running the shop on my own.  But then, there was an accident.  To this day I do not know what caused it.  The forge exploded.  It killed my father instantly.  The shop and our home were lost to the ensuing fire.

  


“My parents had set aside some money, but most of what they had, had been invested in the shop.  What we did have went quickly with seven mouths to feed and no income.  My mother and I both worked what jobs we could find, but I don’t think she ever truly recovered from the heartbreak.  She died not long after.  Then it was just me, trying to support my  younger sisters.

  


“I did whatever work I could.  People who knew us, who had bought from my father or been friendly with my mother, tried to help, too.  But after paying rent so there was a place for the girls to sleep, there was never enough money left over to keep everyone fed.  I did  _ everything I could _ .”  He broke off, seeming overcome with shame that his best hadn’t been good enough.  Yuri took his hand and held it tightly.  “One day, my oldest sister, Amri, came home late.  The baby had taken sick, and would need medicine we couldn’t afford.  And a man from the red light district had offered to-” Otabek’s voice broke, but he forced himself to go on, “to put Amri to work.”

  


Yuri felt his heart break.  He squeezed Otabek’s hand tighter.  “I came here the next day.”

  


“I’m so sorry, Otabek.  I can’t even imagine what you must have gone through.  What that must have been like.  You were doing everything you could for your family.”  He bit his lip, not wanting to make light of what Otabek had dealt with by questioning him, but he still didn’t understand.  “What happened by you coming here that helped your sisters?”

  


“There was a rumor once, when King Victor had first passed the law abolishing involuntary slavery, that someone at the palace would pay a significant sum of money if the right person wanted to make the exchange.  I had never heard of it actually happening; it was a desperate hope.  I knew I would make a good laborer, with my size and strength.  I thought, if I could just get the right person to see me, they would make the offer.

  


“At first I was passed from person to person as I asked how to submit myself to become a slave.  With every new person, I hinted as best I could without saying what I wanted outright.  No one seemed to even notice.  Until one man did.  He asked me about myself, inspected me, then gave me a number.

  


“It was enough to keep my sisters housed and fed for years, if they lived frugally.  I accepted on the spot.  All that was left was to take Amri the money and tell her where I was going.  I was back at the palace that afternoon.  And then I saw you.”  Otabek finally raised his eyes.  Yuri was staring at him, horrified.  At first, he could not speak.  When he finally did, his voice was hoarse.

  


“You  _ sold yourself _ into slavery?”

  


“It was the only way I could take care of my sisters.”

  


“But… but you-”  Yuri ran a shaking hand over his face.  “That’s not supposed to be possible.  It’s  _ illegal _ .  If Victor knew- when he finds out he is going to be furious.”  Suddenly, Yuri’s own anger grew hot.  “Is that why you couldn’t tell me?  Did this man threaten your family if you told me about the money?”

  


“No.  He told me that it needed to remain secret, but that wasn’t why I couldn’t tell you.”

  


“Then- then why-” Yuri faltered, confusion once again swamping him.

  


“I knew, right from the beginning, that I was not going to make a good slave.  I planned to try my best, but I cannot change who I am.  Then, when you claimed me, I realized how much I was going to fail.  Try as I might, I could not do what the trainers demanded of me.  I could not shut off my mind and my will and be eagerly obedient.  I fully expected to be punished for that.  And when you finally took me to your rooms, the way you talked to me about-” Otabek shook his head, not wanting to hurt Yuri any more by reminding him of how cruel his threats had been that night.  “I expected you to be willing to do whatever it took to ensure my compliance.  And I feared, if you ever knew about my family…”

  


“That I would…  That I would use them against you.  Hurt them, to punish you.  Just like Victor said.”  Yuri blinked at him, dazed.  “You couldn’t tell me who you were, why you came, because you thought that I would-”

  


“Not after that first night.”  Otabek took Yuri’s hand, holding it tightly to try and convince him  “When I got to know you, I came to trust you.  I didn’t think that of you, Yura.”

  


“But you still couldn’t tell me.  You took me to bed with you, thinking that I might-”

  


“No!  I believed in you.  I knew that you were not the man I met that night in the palace.  You were every bit the man you became on our journey.  I told you back at the inn - I trust you with my life.  If it was only me, I would have admitted the truth after our first night with Merick.  But this isn’t just my life, Yura.”

  


“And you could not trust me with theirs.”

  


“Don’t.  Don’t say it like that.  It was not something I could choose to do.  I care about you.  Saints above, I’m in  _ love _ with you!  And I think you feel the same way about me.  But sometimes, love ends.  I’ve seen people who were deeply in love hate each other bitterly after a single fight.  It takes time to truly come to know someone, to understand what they are capable of at their very worst.  We have only known each other a few weeks.  I could not take the slightest chance with my sister’s lives that you were not what I believe you to be.”

  


Yuri understood.  Logically, he did.  But that did not stop the pain.  He could barely look at Otabek.  Otabek, who had just admitted that he loved Yuri.  Otabek, who had endured and risked so much because he hadn’t been able to trust that Yuri was not a monster who would hunt down his sisters and hurt them.  Yuri pulled away and stood up.

  


“I need to talk to my brother about what happened to you, to ensure that it doesn’t happen to anyone else.  He’ll want to know about this right away.”

  


“Yura-”

  


“I’m certain that at some point there will be a formal inquest and he will want you to speak at it.”

  


“Yura, please-”

  


Otabek reached out, and Yuri stepped away.  “I’m sorry.  I need to go.”  He turned, then paused.  He couldn’t leave like that.  Not when Otabek had already endured so much.  Yuri clasped Otabek’s face between his hands, pressed a swift kiss to his forehead, and tipped it up.  “No matter what happens, your sisters will be safe.  I promise you.”  Then he forced himself away and left the room.

  


***

  


Despite knowing that he needed to find Victor and tell him about the money, Yuri found himself instead walking towards the gardens.  So much had happened in the last day that he felt he would burst if he faced one more ordeal.  Life had been flying by at triple speed, as if to make up for all the years Yuri had been stagnating.  He was overwhelmed, emotionally wrung out, exhausted from keeping up with each successive revelation.

  


What he needed was time to breathe, to process everything.  He needed a moment of peace, without Victor, or Otabek, or the pressure of his responsibilities.  He needed-

  


He either needed a good hard slap to regain his senses, or he needed spectacles.  He would have  _ sworn _ he’d just seen-  No, there it was again.  Miniature Otabek.  In a dress.  His hair down to his waist and his lips a full shade pinker than Yuri had ever seen them.  Yuri watched as Otabek in a dress pressed his face against the wrought iron fence surrounding the garden and resigned himself to the fact that he had cracked.  The stress and confusion of the last day had driven him mad.  That was the only explanation.

  


And a moment later he realized that he was  _ not _ crazy, and what had to be one of Otabek’s sisters appeared to be contemplating climbing the fence.  Tired of surprises and more than a little curious, Yuri crossed to her.

  


“Hello.”

  


The girl jumped.  She was younger than she’d looked from across the garden.  Yuri tried to smile encouragingly, but he was so numb that he couldn’t be certain that he pulled it off.  In any case, the girl stared at him open mouthed.

  


“Are you the prince?” she finally asked, her voice hushed.  Yuri nodded.  She gasped, stuffing a tiny fist against her mouth.  “You were kidnapped!”

  


“I was.”

  


“But then your servant saved you.”

  


“He did.”  Yuri had no intention of attempting to explain that it was his  _ pleasure slave _ who had saved him, especially when said slave was her brother.

  


“I bet you were really brave.”

  


“I was terrified, at first,” Yuri admitted.  “But my friend who saved me was there to make me feel better.”

  


“It’s nice to have someone to make you feel better,” the girl agreed solemnly.  “My brother used to do that for me.”

  


Yuri swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling thick.  “What are you doing at the palace?”

  


“Looking for him.  I know he’s here, cuz he said this was where he’d be living, and Beky never lies.”  She studied the fence for a moment, then frowned at it.  “But I don’t know how to find him, cuz Amri says he can’t see us any more.  Sometimes she lies, but I don’t think she was lying about this cuz she came here sometimes right after Beky first left and she never got to see him.  The last time she said we shouldn’t try again cuz he could get in trouble.  But I think I could find him and give him a kiss and leave without anyone noticing or getting in trouble, cuz I’m just little.  But only, I need to get over this fence first.”

  


“Otabek’s awfully lucky to have a sister who would go to so much trouble just to give him a kiss.”

  


“Yeah, I guess.  He’s the best big brother in the whole world though, so I think it’s fair.”

  


“I’m sure that’s true.”

  


“It really is! Honest!  One time, he spent  _ all _ afternoon braiding our hair cuz there was a festival and mama was busy helping a neighbor have a baby.  And one time, there was this big bully who used to be friends with Beky who was picking on me, and Beky went to make him stop, and the bully pushed us both in a cellar and locked us in and I was scared but Beky didn’t act scared at all and played games with me in the dark until forever later when Amri found us and let us out.  And-”  The little girl finally stopped for breath, and Yuri thought she had run out of examples.  But she opened her mouth again, this time somewhat subdued.  “And when mama and daddy went to sleep with the Saints, Beky held me when I would cry, and he never complained, no matter how many times I got his shirts wet.”

  


“You’re right,” Yuri agreed when he could be sure his voice wouldn’t break.  “He’s the best brother ever.”

  


“Exactly.  And that’s why I just need to get over this fence.”  She looked at him appraisingly for a moment.  “You look kinda strong.  Maybe you could lift it?”

  


Yuri didn’t know whether to be offended that she had called him  _ kinda strong _ looking, or flattered that she thought he could lift the wrought iron fence almost twice as tall as he was.  At his hesitation, she narrowed her eyes.

  


“Or maybe you can’t help cuz you’re the prince and princes aren’t supposed to break the rules.  But even if that’s true, you wouldn’t tell on me, right?  I don’t want Beky to get in trouble.”

  


“I won’t tell.  I wouldn’t want him to get in trouble, either.   But it has been very busy in the palace.  You don’t want to go in there today.  Instead, let me make you a deal…”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only the epilog left after this!!

It was well after dark when Yuri knocked on Victor’s door again.  This time there was no scuffle behind it.  Victor opened it immediately, as if he’d been expecting Yuri.  He probably had.  Perceptive bastard.

 

“How did you know?” he asked as soon as Victor had closed the door behind him.

 

Victor did not need to ask what he meant.  “The way he explained it to you.  Your history together.  An understanding of what it’s like to be a big brother, responsible for your sibling and terrified of making a mistake you can’t undo.”

 

“You… you figured it out from that one conversation we had?”

 

“Does it really matter how I realized why he wouldn’t tell you, or are you just upset because of what the reason was?”  

 

Yuri snarled.  Victor gave him a soft smile.

 

“You’d be upset too if the person you cared for and who cared about you back thought that you might flip a switch and become a monster who would hurt children to get his way.”

 

“Mabe at first,” Victor agreed.

 

“But?”

 

“But then, I would take the time to see it from his perspective.  To realize that no matter how overwhelming an infatuation is, you can’t truly come to know someone in a single month.  And I would remember that sometimes, when what you are trying to protect is unspeakably precious, your fears can be extreme even if the danger is nonexistent.”

 

“And that would fix everything?”

 

“Not overnight, no.  Because hurt can be irrational, too.  Sometimes it doesn’t go away just because you understand why it happened.  But eventually, you forgive and move on.”  Victor hesitated, not wanting to push Yuri into feeling a certain way, but he hated the idea of Yuri holding onto this anger.  “Yuri, you can’t blame him for not telling you.  Someday, when you have children of your own, you’ll look back at this and you’ll get it beyond a doubt.  For now just realize that he cares about you.  Enough to take on my entire guard to defend you.”

 

“That was a fairly significant moment, wasn’t it?”  Yuri felt some of the tension leave his shoulders.  “I bet your Yuuri never did anything like that for you.”

 

Victor laughed.  “No, I can’t say the occasion ever called for it.  I did meet his sister once, though, and he defended my honour.  Which was good, because she was terrifying.”

 

“I met one of Otabek’s sisters,” Yuri admitted.

 

“What?  How?  When?”

 

“A few hours ago.  And we’ll need to talk about that more, but first, there’s something else I need to tell you.  About Otabek.”

 

“You don’t have to tell me what led to him becoming a slave, Yuri.  Not if you think he wouldn’t want me to hear it.”

 

“No, you need to hear it.  Because Otabek didn’t actually  _ want _ to become a slave.  Someone  _ paid _ him.  He sold himself into slavery to provide for them.”

 

“He did  _ what _ !?!”

 

Victor’s furious yell echoed all the way down the hall.

 

***

 

It was only a few hours until dawn by the time Yuri returned to his rooms.  He had his hand on the knob when he realized suddenly that Victor had referred to Otabek as Yuri’s consort twice already.  It was not a title he used lightly.

 

Yuri thought about his feelings for Otabek, the hopes he’d had for their future.  He thought about meeting Ila, how small she had been, how innocent.  He thought of everything Otabek had endured.

 

Silently, he opened the door and stepped inside.

 

Otabek was on the bed, but his eyes were open.  Wordlessly, Yuri climbed in beside him.  Otabek hesitated only a moment, then slid his hand across the space between them.  Yuri took it and held on tightly.

 

***

 

“Otabek Altin, you are hereby granted your freedom.  As of this moment, you are no longer a slave.”  Victor’s opening words left Otabek stunned.  He’d been understandably nervous about seeing the king again, but Yuri had stayed at his side offering silent support.  It seemed, though, that it was unnecessary.  “You are under no obligation or responsibility to anyone in this palace, and your familial ties are formally reinstated.  If your slave-mark was not-” his eyes flicked down and a faint blush heated the tips of his ears, “ _ private _ , I would remove it myself.”

 

There was a low murmur from the small group of people present, but it was Otabek himself who looked most likely to protest.  “Your Majesty-”

 

“I am going to ask you a few questions now, Otabek.  I would like you to reply to them honestly.  You have my vow as king before these witnesses that no harm will come to you or your family for your candor.”

 

Otabek looked to Yuri, who nodded.  Otabek trusted him.  He swallowed hard and agreed.  “Yes, Majesty.”

 

“Did you, destitute and in need of money to keep your loved ones from starving, come to the palace with the intention of selling yourself into slavery?”

 

“I did, Majesty.”

 

“Were you aware that I had outlawed involuntary slavery, strictly prohibiting  _ any _ form of coercion, which included financial exchange?”

 

“...yes, Majesty.”

 

“And when you made yourself clear, did anyone in my palace offer to take your submission in exchange for a sum of money?”

 

“Yes, Majesty.”

 

“Did you then sell yourself into slavery, give the funds to your family, and present yourself here for service where you were claimed by Prince Yuri?”

 

“I did, Majesty.”

 

“And was the reason you did not ever tell your master that you had sold yourself, despite the trust that grew between you, because selling yourself had been illegal?”

 

“No, I didn’t- I mean, I knew at first that I ought not say anything, but truly, I did not realize how serious the matter was.  I didn’t tell him because I couldn’t-”

 

“The real reason is immaterial.  What I want to establish is that while you took part in a criminal activity, your actions were borne of need to save your family -  _ love _ \- and not criminal intent.”

 

“Yes, Majesty.  I only wanted to protect them.”

 

Victor smiled softly.  “You are a good man, Otabek Altin.  I cannot condemn you for what you did - but I must impress upon you the seriousness of your actions.  Your submission was void from the beginning, and you were never able to fully become a slave.  Because of that, you did not consent to what was being done to you, but you could not object.  You have made the slave trainers, my staff, even my own brother complicit in rape and assault.”

 

Otabek went ashy white.

 

“And you suffered greatly, enduring indignities that no one should be subjected to.  There is no recompense that rights such a wrong.  All I am able to do is put stricter measures in place to prevent this from ever happening again.  The slave laws are going to be rewritten, particularly the laws concerning the training of pleasure slaves.  For your part in this aberration of justice-”

 

Otabek closed his eyes.  Beside him, Yuri clasped their hands together.

 

“-you are cleared of all criminal charges and will be given a position in my court.  Your family is to receive lifelong support from the royal coffers in some small restitution for what you suffered.  Nothing in my power to give-” Victor’s eyes flicked to Yuri knowingly, “will be denied you.  That is all.”

 

“I- Thank you, Majesty,” Otabek managed to say, still in shock.

 

“You are free to go, Otabek.”  Victor waited until Yuri had helped Otabek turn away before speaking again.  “Now, bring in treasury-master Hendrickson.”

 

They were out of the throne room before the man arrived.  Otabek stared back, eyes wide.  “Hendrickson?  Was that the man that I-”

 

“Yes.  When I told Victor about the money, he began his investigation immediately.  What happened to you…  Victor is responsible for all his subjects.  That you were so abused, right here in his own  _ home _ , was an affront he could not bear.  He rooted out the person responsible single-mindedly.  There will be a full, formal investigation, but it was just one man’s greed.”

 

“How could it have been greed?  He gave  _ me _ money.”

 

“It was a long-term reward.  He was selective, picking only the strongest or most talented of subjects, paying them an up front sum, and then entering them in the register as servants instead of slaves.  They would go on to work in the palace as slaves, paid no wages, and he would collect the money the records showed was due them as servants.  In a short while, he began to profit.”

 

“But with me-”

 

“With you, his scheme did not pay off. He did not count on me taking you for my own.  If it is any comfort at all, he made not a single copper from your enslavement.”

 

“But there were others?”

 

“Only two that Victor could find.  He will be seeing them later today.  Unless one of them sold themselves specifically with intent to break the law, which I highly doubt, they will be cleared of any wrongdoing and offered their freedom as well.”

 

“What about Hendrickson?”  Otabek stopped, clearly torn.  “I know what he did was illegal, and I understand now why it it was such a serious crime, but if he had not done what he did, my little sisters would have already either starved or been forced into prostitution.  I… I’m  _ grateful _ to him, Yura.”

 

“If he had acted with compassion instead of greed, your family would still have been aided.  He had only to make your situation known to my brother or any of his advisors and they would have helped you.  He instead used your misfortune for his own gain and subjected you to even greater suffering.  My brother will never forgive him for that.”

 

“What will happen to him?”  Otabek feared the worst.

 

“There cannot be a formal sentencing until after the full investigation is finished, but he will probably live out the rest of his life in a labor camp.  My brother will see it as fitting, considering his crime.  And I agree.”

 

“Oh.”  Labor camp was not what Otabek had expected.  The man would keep his life.  He would no longer lead an easy one at the palace, no, but he would still have one.  That was all Otabek could ask for, considering what his crime had accomplished when all was said and done, and not just to Otabek.

 

“Beka-”  Yuri pulled Otabek to a stop at a set of chairs outside the entrance hall.  “I’m sorry for what happened to you.  I’m sorry for my part in it.  And I’m sorry for the way I reacted last night.  I was being naive and selfish to take you protecting your family from any possible harm as a personal insult.  What we have,” he took Otabek’s hand again, “happened very fast.  And your first impression of me was not a favorable one.  Nor was the second, or even third.”  He smiled a little, and Otabek had to agree.  “But the point is that I realize now it wasn’t  _ about _ me.  Before his dramatic little trick, you respected and admired my brother more than any other man, but you were unwilling to tell him about your sisters, too.  You were doing your job as their brother, as the head of your family, to take not even the slightest chance with their safety.  You were doing the right thing, even though it was far from the easiest one.  And I cannot blame you for that.  I don’t hold it against you, Otabek.”

 

“Thank you,” Otabek breathed.  The weight of Yuri’s hurt had been oppressive, stifling him.  Knowing that Yuri understood and could forgive him for it eased the burden.

 

“Don’t thank me.  I was being childish before, thinking only of myself.  Now that I’ve met them, I can see-”

 

“Met them?”  Otabek blinked in surprise.  “What do you-”

 

“Damn!”  Yuri huffed and crossed his arms.  “Well that ruined the surprise just a fucking bit.  Damn…”

  
“Surprise?”

 

“I… I had the pleasure of meeting one of your younger sisters yesterday.  Ila.  She was standing outside the gardens when I happened to be out there thinking.  And there was no mistaking who she was - from a distance, at first I honestly thought she was you in a dress.”

 

Otabek chuckled, knowing full well how strong the family resemblance was.  “What was she…”

 

“Coming to see you, of course.  Apparently Amri had come to try and see you several times before she was told that both you and she could be punished if she didn’t stop.  But Ila was convinced that she could slip in and out of the palace without being noticed, if only she could find a way through the boundary fence.”

 

“The fence three times as tall as she is?” 

 

“The very same.  Though she seemed convinced once I arrived that I would be able to just lift it up for her and she could crawl under it.”

 

“The fence that is twice as tall as  _ you _ are?”

 

“Indeed.  I would have been quite flattered if the request hadn’t been wrapped in an insult.  As it was, I asked her to come back today and bring her sisters with her so that they could all see you.”

 

“Yura…”  Otabek’s face scrunched up, his tone suspiciously thick.

 

“They are beautiful girls, Beka, for all that they look just like you.”  Yuri laughed and Otabek joined him brokenly.  “Amri is just as willful as you are, and clever too.  Emse is sweet and polite despite her shyness, Ursa is so tall for her age, but just as gentle as you are with it.  And Yanis… She’s walking now.  They said you hadn’t seen her do it yet.  She toddled all around the room and threw a fit when Amri tried to pick her up.  She’s going to have your quick temper, I think.”

 

There were tears falling openly down Otabek’s face now, his shoulders shaking with it.  “They’re all so excited to see you, Beka.”  Yuri smiled, tugging Otabek up and towards the door to the entrance hall.

 

“Wait- I don’t want them to see me like-” He wiped his eyes brusquely but couldn’t wait long enough to erase the evidence of his tears.  Yuri laughed again and opened the door.

 

The girls had been waiting impatiently and turned as one towards the new occupants.  Amri’s hand flew to her mouth to stifle her gasp.  The younger girls made no such effort.  Ila squealed and Ursa shrieked.  Even Yanis babbled loudly.  All five of them raced to Otabek.  Otabek took three strides towards them and then dropped to his knees, arms open.  The girls flung themselves into them.  Esme was sobbing, the others nearly doing the same.  And Otabek, for all that he had wanted to remain stoic and strong in front of his sisters, was spilling more tears than he had been before.  Five little sets of lips kissed each one away.

 

Yuri stood back and watched the scene, his own eyes not quite dry.  Otabek hugged each of the girls in turn, exclaiming over them, telling them how much he loved them, how much he’d missed them.  They told him about their lives in the months he’d been gone, the milestones he’d missed like Yanis learning to walk and Ursa growing three fingers taller.

 

All the while, Ila stayed perched on Otabek’s lap proudly.

 

Finally, Amri glanced up to Yuri and then back to Otabek, uncertainty written on her face.  “The prince- the prince said that you were free now.  That there had been some sort of mistake, a misunderstanding with you coming here, and that you could come home now.”  She bit her lip, clearly conflicted.  “Is that true, Otabek?  And can we- What do we do about-” Her eyes again flicked nervously to Yuri.

 

“Yuri knows about the money, Amri.  It’s not a problem.”

 

“But I thought-”

 

“It was illegal, yes.  But no one is blaming your brother for what he did.  All we want to do now is help.  I told you, you won’t have to worry about things like that anymore.”

 

Amri looked to Otabek, obviously not ready to believe it until he confirmed it.  Otabek nodded.  “He’s telling the truth.  The king himself said that he would provide for you all.  No one needs to go hungry again.”

 

“And you get to come home, too?”

 

Otabek opened his mouth but didn’t speak.  He looked over at Yuri, conflicted.  He wanted to be with his family… but he didn’t want to leave Yuri.

 

“He can go whenever and wherever he wishes,” Yuri said carefully, “but I thought that maybe…”

 

Otabek looked up, hopeful that Yuri might have found some kind of middle ground.

 

“If you all were willing, I hoped that maybe you would come live here, in the palace.”

 

“With the  _ king?” _ Ursa gasped.

 

Yuri chuckled.  “The king, and the members of court and aids and many other people.”  He paused, looking back at Otabek.  “And me.”

 

Ila tugged on the hem of Amri’s dress.  “Amri!  Amri!  I want to live in the palace!  How much does it cost to live in the palace?  We don’t need to buy me bigger shoes if we can live here.  I’ll just go barefoot.  Beky, can we?”

 

“You can live in the palace  _ and _ have shoes that fit, Ila,” Otabek explained gently.  He looked up to Amri.  “What do you think?  Do you want to live here?”  

 

Amri looked torn.  She stepped closer to Otabek and leaned down, lowering her voice.  “Is he nice to you, Otabek?  I don’t care where we live, as long as we’re together and happy.  There are less rats in the boarding house now and-”

 

Otabek stopped her with a gentle touch on her cheek.  “We can be happy here, Amri.  He’s a good man.  I-” he hesitated, wondering if it was too soon to tell them.  Yes, it had all happened so fast, but Otabek had no doubts about how he felt.  “I love him.”

 

All of the girls except for a happily oblivious Yanis looked up at Yuri with a new kind of awe.  Suddenly, he wasn’t just the prince.  He was the man their brother loved.  Obviously that meant more to Amri than any royal title did, because she grinned, just a little crookedly the way Otabek did.

 

“Are there fancy copper bathing tubs here?  I bet everyone gets their own.”

 

Otabek pulled his sisters into an enormous bear hug and lifted them up.  “The tubs here are big enough to fit all of you at the same time!”  They collectively shrieked in delight.

 

***

 

Later, when Otabek had introduced his sisters to the king and Victor was fawning over them, he and Yuri slipped away.  Neither of them seemed to have any particular destination in mind as they walked, but eventually they found themselves at Yuri’s door and went in.

 

“Beka, I’m so glad you’re staying.  I want you here - with me.  But I know that things aren’t the same as they were before.  I don’t want them to be.  We need to-” he stopped, shaking his head.  “I would like to court you.  Properly.  If you want.”

 

Otabek smiled.  “I suppose we did go about this backward, didn’t we?”

 

“Very,” Yuri said with a laugh.

 

“This ‘proper courting’, would it mean that we couldn’t sleep together?”

 

“I think technically there is usually a waiting period that both parties agree on.  But considering the circumstances, it might be skipped altogether.  If we both wanted.”  Yuri glanced at him furtively, then away.  “Do you?” 

 

Otabek pulled Yuri close enough that his breath ghosted over Yuri’s lips.  “Prince Yuri, it would be my honor and privilege to court you, to stay by your side.  And it would be my pleasure to spend my nights in your bed.”

 

“Kiss me?”  Yuri waited, breathless.  Otabek lifted Yuri’s hand and pressed his lips against the inside of his wrist.

 

“At your command,” he murmured, and lifted his head to obey.


	17. Epilog

Otabek finished tucking in Yanis, Ila, and Ursa, said good night to Esme and Amri, then closed the door to their rooms behind him.  He thought that perhaps, in a year or so when they had settled in more and Amri had come of age, he might see about getting them seperate apartments.  The younger girls were taking to life in the palace like ducks to water, but the older two were slower to trust, slower to feel truly secure in this new arrangement.

 

Amri had fretted continuously about them dirtying too many bed linens until Otabek had shown her the massive room for storing the palace’s various linens.

 

Despite the lingering fears, all of Otabek’s sisters were happy and safe.  The rooms they’d been given were in the same wing as he and Yuri’s, so they were far enough for privacy but close enough for comfort.

 

Both aspects of that were equally important to Otabek.  It meant the world to him that he could be there for his sisters, especially when not that long ago he’d thought he would never see them again.  But also, he wouldn’t have wanted to risk their innocence with them accidentally overhearing some of his more adventurous exploits with Yuri.

 

It was a balance.  Otabek was finding that many things in his life now were.  He balanced his responsibility as head of his family with his new place in Victor’s court and his role as Yuri’s unofficial consort.  He balanced the time he spent with the girls and the time he spent with Yuri.  He balanced lingering awe of King Victor with the casual banter he sometimes shared with his lover’s brother.  And he balanced taking a more deferential position to Yuri in their day to day lives while taking the lead behind closed doors.

 

As he slipped into bed with Yuri, he considered the balance between the pain of his past and the happiness he now enjoyed.

 

“Let me guess… Ila talked you into one last bedtime story.”  Yuri smiled and slipped his arms around Otabek.

 

“She’s tenacious when it comes to her bedtime stories.”

 

“And you can’t resist.  Oh ye of so little willpower.”

 

Otabek scoffed.  “Yura, you gave her a  _ pony _ her second day in the palace.”

 

“Every little girl should have a pony,” Yuri said in his defense.

 

“Uh-huh.  And the dresses you had made for them?  That’s what, the fifth set?”

 

Yuri’s face glowed slightly pink in the candlelight.  “Fine, so I don’t have any willpower, either.”  He huffed a little, and Otabek kissed him.

 

“You are never going to hear me complain about you spoiling my sisters, Yura.  I love that you care so much for them already.  I loved you before you met them, but the fact that  _ they _ love you too, is more than I could have ever dared hope for.”

 

“They’re hard not to love.  Like you.”

 

Yuri let his hands wander across Otabek’s chest, letting his palm rest atop Otabek’s heart.  Otabek laced the fingers of their other hands together.

 

“Have you decided?” Yuri asked him after a moment of silence.

 

“I’m going to leave it in.  For now.”  Otabek turned to see Yuri’s face better, trying to figure out if his soft sigh had been of happiness or disappointment.  “Would you rather I took it out?”

 

“I want you to be happy, Beka.  It is your body.  Your choice.  I will respect any decision you make.”

 

“But if I had no feelings on it whatsoever, if I was completely ambivalent.  What would you suggest, then?”

 

“Honestly, I don’t know.  On the one hand, I do not like seeing the continuous reminder of what you went through, and I don’t want you to have to relive that every day when you see it.  But on the other hand… well-”

 

“It has some very pleasurable advantages.”

 

“Exactly.”  Yuri let his hand wander down to Otabek’s cock and toy with the warm metal of his slave piercing.  They could have removed it the day Victor gave Otabek his formal freedom, but neither of them had suggested it.

 

It was a reminder, as Yuri said, of everything that had happened to Otabek those early days in the palace.  But it had become more than that, too.  Yuri taking Otabek as his slave was what had brought them so much joy in the end, and even security and happiness to the girls.  He did not regret how events had played out, despite his suffering.

 

Still, he did not need to think of that pain any time he was trying to be intimate with Yuri, especially since, like he’d said, there were so many pleasurable purposes for it.

 

“Maybe, when your forge is finished being constructed, I’ll make a new ring for it.  Something in pale silver like moonlight, with an opal that shimmers like ocean waves.  Something with only happy memories.  And we can reclaim it.”

 

“Could you really make such a thing?” Yuri’s voice was excited.  Otabek smiled.

 

“Not without some little effort, but I could do it.  Should I take it-” his breath caught as Yuri stroked his cock, massaging just beneath the piercing, “that you approve of my plan?”

 

“I do.  Whole heartedly.”

 

“And it seems that you have some plans of your own for the night…”

 

“Only if you're willing.” Yuri bit his lip, looking eager but unsure, wanting Otabek to be totally comfortable with anything they did.

 

“Of course I am, love.  What we do, together-” he pressed a lingering kiss to Yuri’s lips, “the past has nothing to do with it any more. I want  _ everything  _ with you.” And he meant It.  Perhaps, sometime in the future, he would even ask Yuri to top him…

 

“Well- good then. Because-” Yuri blushed, then took Otabek’s hand and slid it between his legs. Before Otabek could stop and stroke his cock, Yuri pushed his hand back further.  Warm metal met Otabek’s fingertips.  He stilled.  After a long moment, he sat up and pulled the blankets off so that he could look between Yuri’s legs.  Glinting softly in the candlelight was the golden base of a plug.  It wasn’t adorned with garnet as Otabek’s had been, but the shape of the thing was unmistakable.

 

“Yura?”  Otabek tore his eyes away from it and back up to Yuri’s face.

 

“I… I thought it was something we could- reclaim.  Something we might be able to take pleasure in together.  It- it’s not as large as you by far, but I rather-” he let out a breath and went on so softly that Otabek barely heard him, “like it…”

 

Otabek continued to stare at him for another moment, then groaned and dropped forward to kiss Yuri hungrily.  Yuri’s erection, which had been persistent since he’d first put the plug in but had begun to wane under Otabek’s scrutiny, sprang back to life.  He could feel Otabek’s cock beginning to strain as well.

 

“You don’t mind, then?” he asked between kisses.  Otabek trailed his lips down the column of Yuri’s throat, nipping and licking.

 

“Yura.  My Yura.”  He took Yuri’s nipple between his teeth and bit gently, relishing the way Yuri shuddered in response.  “This is not something I would  _ ever _ ask of you.  But-”  His tongue swirled around Yuri’s belly button, then followed the trail of fine blonde hairs further down.  “But if it is something  _ you _ like… Well, I have  _ no _ objection.”

 

“Truly?”  Yuri’s voice was becoming breathless as Otabek’s destination became unmistakably clear.

 

“Just the idea that you  _ want  _ this, that you willingly choose, and take pleasure from, having your body ready for me…  Saint’s mercy, Yura you’re going to make me spill before I can even get inside you.”

 

Yuri flushed with pleasure.  He opened his mouth to speak but promptly forgot whatever he was going to say as Otabek swallowed the length of his cock.   Any doubts that might have lingered, about what kind of future they could have together, about how they could make this work, vanished.  There was nothing,  _ nothing _ they couldn’t overcome.  They were far from a typical couple, certainly, but that didn’t make their bond any less strong.  Didn’t make their love any less real.

 

Suddenly, Yuri felt he could not wait a single moment longer to have Otabek inside him.  “Beka,” he gasped.  “Now.  Please, I need you.”

 

Otabek lifted his head abruptly, just as eager as Yuri was.  “Bear down,” he instructed.  When Yuri obeyed, Otabek gently tugged the plug free and tossed it aside.  Without pause, he lined the head of his cock up with the slick, pliant opening and pressed forward.  Yuri’s body yielded to him smoothly, taking him in greedily.  One push was all it took for Otabek to sink balls deep.  They both groaned.  “You feel- so-” Otabek closed his eyes against the onslaught of pleasure.

 

“I know.  You do too.”  Neither of them dared to move.  “More,” Yuri finally begged.  “Please, I need more.”

 

“I’m not-  I won’t be able to last,” Otabek admitted breathlessly.

 

“Then fuck me hard and fast until you come and then fuck me again.”

 

Otabek stared at Yuri in wonder, love and lust filling his chest so sharply he feared he would burst with it.  He looked down at the man he cared for more than any other, the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, the man who never ceased to surprise and amaze him.  A slow, wolfish grin spread across his face as he leaned down to whisper in Yuri’s ear.

 

_ “At your command.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand that's all she wrote, folks! Thank you for coming along on this ride with me, and for all the wonderful, encouraging comments. This has been a joy to write and share. I can't wait to dig into another one. 
> 
> If you want to come say hi, fangirl with me, or see more story updates, I'm at ArabellaFaith on Tumblr :D


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